


Time Is Not A Toy

by wicked17writer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Time Travel, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:56:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 80,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26333719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked17writer/pseuds/wicked17writer
Summary: Darcy ends up in the 1940's where she runs into Hydra and then the Howling Commandos.Flushing out what happened in Captain America the First Avenger, but with a Darcy twist and a epic endgame in mind.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis & Howling Commandos, Darcy Lewis/Howard Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Comments: 201
Kudos: 333





	1. Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have one pairing in mind for this, but I don't think it's an endgame pairing, its more of a make you love them together so I can break them apart and make her get with someone else half way through and try to make you love them together type thing. So...I'm open to suggestions for the endgame pairing. 
> 
> Also, I never understood why Thor never took at the very least JANE back to Asgard to just, like see his home, you know without being all infected and dying? She's a scientist and would love the chance to go to Asgard again. So, I'm rectifying that and making it all Darcy's idea.

Time is Not A Toy  
By wicked17writer

\-------------------------------------------0

“So much better than Splash Mountain.” Darcy whispered as she and her friends exited the newly repaired Bifrost. Riding the rainbow bridge was one of the coolest experiences in her life but it left her feeling unsteady on her feet. She felt like gravity was inverted and while she was a little worried she would lose her lunch all over the shiny floor, she somehow kept it together. 

“Oh, lady Darcy how you make me laugh.” Thor chuckled as he slapped her on the back in a friendly manner, but it caused her to stumble into a man’s hard metal clad chest. 

“Look at this view!” Jane exclaimed, “It’s even better than I remember.” 

Looking up Darcy found a man with dark skin and golden eyes looking down at her. She was frozen in place and pressed up against his front; the only thing running through her mind was how tall he was and how small she felt in comparison. 

The corner of his mouth lifted briefly before he spoke to her. “Hello little one, welcome to Asgard. I am Heimdall Guardian of the Bifrost.” 

“And my best friend!” Thor boomed as he slapped Heimdall on the back heartily. The dark skinned man’s arms came around her and held her tight so she wasn’t jostled to the floor from the movement. Darcy couldn’t help but snort, Thor was practically vibrating with excitement. 

After the whole Dark Elves/Aether mess, Darcy very casually floated the idea of Thor taking them home to Asgard for an intergalactic vacation so the memories Jane retained weren’t tainted by her evil-goo-possessed state. Thor jumped on the idea. He quickly arranged the whole thing. Within 24 hours Erik and Ian were waving goodbye as Thor, she, and Jane went on the wildest ride in the cosmos. 

But, before they left Earth Thor had made a list of places he wanted to show them. And the food they _had_ to try. And everyone he _had_ to introduce them to. Top of that list was Heimdall. “I’ve known Heimdall for over a hundred years.” Thor boasted, the smile on his face stretched from ear to ear as he babbled on about his friend. “He is the most loyal person I known and one of Asgard’s fiercest protectors. I can’t count the number of scrapes he’s gotten me out of and—Jane! Come say hello to Heimda--” 

They all turned as one to see Jane fiddling with a giant sword that was stuck in the floor. Thor’s voice raised several octaves as he rushed over to her whisper yelling at her, “My love, you should not touch that!” 

Darcy tuned the lovebirds out as she stepped away from the tall Asgardian to introduce herself properly. She held out her hand saying, “Hi. I’m Darcy Lewis, awesome best friend to Thor’s lady love Jane, but you knew that right? Cause of your all seeing eye thing?” 

Heimdall’s bright white smile had her momentarily quivering on the inside; he was a very handsome man. “Aye,” he took her hand and shook it gently, “My sight extends to all of the Nine Realms. When the Bifrost was broken and Thor was separated from his lady Jane, he often had me look in on her. You were seldom far from her side. I know you to be a very loyal friend and companion, Lady Darcy of Midgard. And it is a pleasure to meet you in person.”

A slow smile spread across her face, Heimdall still held her hand in his. His palm was warm and large, dwarfing her dainty one. “Could I make a request?”

“You may.” He said with a slight nod.

“Don’t every let your Nine Realms spanning sight fall on me when I’m in the bathroom?” He looked highly amused by her, which was what she was going for. She grinned at him cheekily and pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I’m not joking.” 

Heimdall let out a laugh that seemed to take him by surprise. “Thor was right, you are delightful in your quaint candor.” 

She pointed at him, “And pretty. I’m also pretty.” That made the Guardian laugh again, drawing the attention of the others. 

Jane’s eyes were cast elsewhere in the impressive room, but she followed Thor’s lead, his arm around her shoulders guided her forlorn footsteps over to Darcy and Heimdall. Thor pouted, “I’ve missed something funny.” 

“I want to see how the gate works.” Jane whined.

Faced with two slightly gloomy expressions Darcy rubbed at her forehead with a sigh. She hated it when she had to be the ‘grown up’. Forcing a smile she looked to Thor and said, “This is a vacation. We need drinks.” 

Like a puppy Thor perked up and grinned. “Excellent idea Lady Darcy!”  
.  
.  
.  
The rest of the day was a happy blur. Thor had someone take their bags to the palace, where they would be staying because Thor was a fucking _prince_ which was sometimes hard to remember because Darcy so often thought of him as her friend and Jane’s hot boyfriend who stole all her poptarts if she didn’t hide them well enough. 

They met up with Fandral (the rest of his friends were apparently off-world) and got very drunk. It was a good time and felt a little like a double date and even though she was pretty sure she made out with the mustachioed blonde man she woke up in the morning hung over and spooning Jane.  
.  
.  
.  
They spent a week of sightseeing with Thor acting as their tour guide before the King acknowledged there presence. 

“There will be a feast tonight so we should perhaps not overindulge this afternoon.” Thor told her as they were ordering lunch. 

Darcy’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead, she looked over at Jane to see if surprised by this news. They had not seen the King yet, Thor made excused saying his father was busy, but they all knew the truth. Odin may not object to the relationship between his son and a mortal, but obviously wasn’t happy about it. Jane looked equally bewildered. “A feast?” 

“My father is throwing it in your honor.” Thor said quickly trying to play it off by turning to the servers and saying, “I will have the roast ham and ale.” 

“Odin? The man who called me a goat?” Jane pressed. “That Odin is throwing me a feast?” 

“Well, you and Lady Darcy.” Thor threw her a smile and she smiled back, glad to not be forgotten even though her importance to Thor was far less so then Jane. 

“Wait,” Darcy sat up a little straighter as something occurred to her, “Isn’t Lady Sif and Volstagg—didn’t you say your friends would be returning from their super secret mission today?” 

With conviction Jane said, “So the feast is for them. Not us.”

“No!” Thor grabbed up Jane’s hand and stared deeply into her eyes. “It is for you. To celebrate our first—what did you call yourselves the other day Lady Darcy?” Thor looked over to her and seeing her face seemed to jog his memory. “Tourist!” 

He turned back to Jane and kissed her knuckles, “We are to celebrate Asgard’s first tourists.”

“And your friends return.” Jane insisted.

Thor rolled his eyes and let go of her hand, “I suppose.” 

“Your dad doesn’t want us here and I don’t understand why you insist on lying about it.” Jane said frankly. Darcy averted her gaze to the table top. In the week they’d been there King Odin’s non-acknowledgement had increasingly incensed Jane. She was offended upon the behalf of the human race, whom Jane believed that the King believed were lower life forms. And thus unworthy of time or attention. Thor making excuses for his dad’s absence only chaffed at Jane’s indignation. 

“He does want you here.” Thor argued, “As I’ve told you, he’s just been very busy!”

“He wouldn’t even let us in to say ‘hi’ when we first arrived.” Jane said with a frown. “We’re dating! You’d think he’d want to repair my impression of him.” 

“He was tired.” Thor excused.

“He’s rude.” Jane said pointedly. 

“He’s the King.” Thor shrugged as if to say, ‘what did you expect’.

“Ugh!” Jane stood up abruptly, her chair scrapping loudly across the floor. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Thor watched her walk away from them with a dejected expression. 

The third wheel thing had never felt like it applied to her. Usually Darcy was good at wandering off and socializing or doing whatever, to allow Thor and Jane have their ‘couple’ time. She was good at reading a room and body language and she had very good timing. The ability to disappeared and reappear at the appropriate moments were kind of a point of pride for her, best friend wise. However, the little spats Jane and Thor had been getting into? They sprung up out of nowhere. And they were happening more frequently. 

Reaching out Darcy pat Thor on the arm consolingly. She didn’t know what to say or have any advice to give so she did what she did best. Distract and provide comical relief. “I bet you ten poptarts she’s on her period.”

Instead of laughing despite himself as she intended, Thor sighed wearily. “No. I believe Jane’s sour mood is all my doing.” 

Darcy removed her hand and reached for her cup. She drank from it greedily practically chugging the entire thing just because she could tell her jokes would not be appreciated at the moment and it was better to appear to be too busy drinking than to sit there in silence saying nothing when Thor obviously needed something. Touching heart to hearts weren’t her forte. With a gasp she pulled the cup away from her lips and slammed it down on the table.

Thor stared at her with a little wrinkle in between his eyebrows. “Another?” 

“Yes please.”  
.  
.  
.  
They were given fancy gowns and two ‘handmaidens’ to help beautify them before the big feast. Darcy pre-gamed so she was slightly buzzed while the women prodded, laced, and squeezed her into a sexy and revealing but also kind of covered up to her neck green/gold dress. Jane wore red and a plunging neckline. She barely needed any help getting dressed as the lightweight fabric seemed to float on her skin, unlike Darcy who felt like a sardine. A sexy sardine, but still. 

The feast started off in the throne room where they were to be ‘presented’ before the King, this was something neither she nor Jane knew about before hand, which was probably a smart move on Thor’s part. Had she known she would have bailed. It was a big production; there were hundreds of people lining the walls as the doors opened to let Darcy, Thor, and Jane inside. 

With one woman on either side of him, Thor led them down the long walk to the base of the throne. His father sat high above them looking like a _boss_. Darcy was so glad to be buzzed otherwise she might have run away as Odin’s one good eye looked her up and down before doing the same to Jane.

Odin banged the end of his large staff on the floor. “Welcome.” He said not sounding welcoming at all.

Darcy whispered to Thor, “Should we bow?”

He ignored her, addressing his father Thor said “Father, I present to you my love, Lady Jane Foster and her fierce and loyal companion Lady Darcy Lewis.” 

Odin’s eye flickered back to her and Darcy licked her lips, her mouth suddenly felt so dry. She was not used to all this attention and she was very uncomfortable. Thor owed her like 10 million Poptarts. 

“Asgard is grateful to receive you Midgardians...” Odin paused, his eye lingering on Jane before flickering back to Thor. He smiled at his son before concluding, “On my word as King no harm shall come to you, our guests.” 

Odin then waved his hand and everyone around them got down on one knee. Darcy froze. Thor had not told them about proper Asgardian etiquette and she was kind of mad about it. Her eyes cut over to Jane, hoping for someone to empathize with, but Jane was staring up at Odin. And she had a defiant look on her face. A look up at the King found 

Odin was staring back at Jane with just the hint of a challenging grin. Darcy let her shoulder’s slump. If Jane and Odin weren’t going to play nice that meant keeping peace fell to her and Thor. And Thor didn’t realize his dad and girlfriend were having a silent battle of wills. Which made it _her_ problem.

“Your highness.” Her voice was shaky as she called out to the king. She could feel the crowd turn to look at her, the attention made her want to hide or run away, but she straightened her spine and looked the King of Asgard in the eye. 

“Darcy, no--” Thor tugged on the bottom of her dress and tried to stop her, but it would be weird if she didn’t say anything after getting the kings attention. And frankly the tension between Jane and Odin needed to be deflated. 

Kicking Thor off of her ankle, she called out, “I’m afraid my friend and I aren’t used to bowing. And. Uh, frankly I think my dress will rip in half if I bend over.”

The crowd twittered in glee, but Darcy didn’t have time to soak up the reaction to humor. She kept her eyes on Odin trying to gauge his reaction to her particular brand of ‘diplomacy’. 

He didn’t look amused. 

The King banged the end of his staff on the floor again and people rose back to their feet. “Let the Heartening Feast begin!” 

A cheer rouse from the crowd and people started filing out of the room, whispering about the newest royal gossip no doubt. 

Thor got to his feet and put a hand on her lower back, smiling, he complimented her, “I think that went well.”  
.  
.  
.  
The ‘Heartening Feast’ was apparently code for get drunk in fancy clothes. And an hour or so into the event Darcy was feeling more than a little tipsy. 

Jane had fumed about Odin’s ‘gall’ and ‘blah, blah, blah’. Darcy tuned her out rather early on, an act which was easier when Fandral joined them and distracted her with his flirting. He really was cute. And a good kisser, but his greatest asset was his ability to wisk her away from the Thor and Jane drama so they could dance or make out in a darkened corner. 

Which is what she was doing when someone came and interrupted them. “Ahem.” 

Fandral moved his lips to her neck mumbling, ‘Go away’ to their interloper, but when he did that Darcy got a look at who was standing behind them. She slapped at Fandral’s shoulder and pushed him away saying, “Hi King Odin!” far more cheerfully than she intended. 

Fandral stood up ramrod straight, then wiped at his mouth with back of his and before turning and bowing to the King. “Apologies King Odin, I did not know it wa--”

“Leave.” Odin said dismissively. 

Darcy instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him to do so. Odin was very intimidating and she was drunk, she did not want to be alone with Thor’s dad. “Why?” 

“I wish to speak to you.” Odin said with a twinkle in his eye. 

Fandral looked at her and smiled apologetically, he was prying her hand off his arm. “I’ll find you later my Lady.” He excused and then he was gone. 

Odin extended his arm, “Come.” 

“Why?” She questioned again. 

Odin looked annoyed, “I wish to speak to you.” He repeated, “Are you hard of hearing girl?” 

“I don’t—I didn’t do anything.” She defended, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. 

Odin exhaled in amusement and then he took her arm and forced her to link it with his own. In a gentler voice he said, “Come.”  
.  
.  
.  
Odin led her to a room not far off from the big dining hall where the feast was being held. He made her sit in a comfy arm chair in front of a fireplace and then left her alone briefly only to return with two glasses. He handed her one and then sat in the chair opposite hers. 

“Drink.” He ordered, taking a sip from his own glass.

“I’m already drunk.” She confessed. “I don’t think I should.” 

The corner of his mouth curved upward. “My son is in love with your friend. I find her boring. You are her friend, I wish you to tell me why he is so infatuated with her.” 

“Jane’s awesome.” Darcy defended. “She’s pretty and smart and you would be blessed to have her as your daughter in law. She does science and--” 

Odin’s eyebrows rose. “You think them to marry?” 

Darcy shrugged mumbling, “Idunno.” 

Odin stared at her with his one eye. All the things Thor told her about his dad, how powerful he was, how many battles he’d won, and all that information ran through her mind and left her feeling very small and very human. Her mouth felt dry again, so she took a drink despite what she had said earlier. It was fruiter than the different Asgardian ales she had been served thus far. “Mmmm.” 

“You like it?” Odin questioned. “It was one of my—it was the Queens favorite. And Loki’s.” 

She took another drink. “It’s like. Champagne but with fruit and less bubbles.” 

“Girl, do you really think Jane and Thor are a good match?” 

She looked away from the King and into the fireplace. “I think they are in love right now.” 

“Now.” Odin repeated.

Uncomfortable with the interrogation of her friend’s love life, Darcy scooted to the end of the chair and asked, “Can I go?” 

“You are an intriguing one.” Odin ignored her request, changing the subject he took another sip from his glass and made a show of getting comfy in his chair. “By all accounts your best trait is de-escalation, humor, and likability.”

“Uh huh.” Either she was dense or he was bad at getting to the point. 

“Do you desire Thor for yourself?” 

“What!” She was floored by the question. “What? No. No, no, no, no. Just--what made you think--”

“I do not like Jane Foster.” 

“Sucks to be you I guess!” Darcy retorted unthinkingly. She expected the King to get all angry at her but instead he chuckled. 

“I would much rather see Thor with a thing like you.” 

“Too fucking bad.” There was no side table or anything so she got up and thrust her cup at the king’s chest, she didn’t wait for him to grab it she just let it go and turned on her heel and marched out of the room. He called her name and just to be sure she couldn’t get drawn back into the weird and uncomfortable conversation, she put her hands over her ears and sang loudly, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”  
.  
.  
.  
When she made it back to the dining hall where the party was still in full swing, she spied Fandral across the room right away. He was making out with some blonde. She didn’t really care, but it stung her pride a little. Defeated, a little in shock, and confused as hell, she made her way back to the table where Thor and Jane sat with Lady Sif. 

“And just where have you been young lady?” Jane asked teasingly, drunk Jane was a happy Jane.

Instead of replying she stole the cup from Thor’s hands when it was inches away from his lips. She downed the whole thing, held it out to him, and then sat down across from the happy couple with a grumbling, “blarg.”

“What?” Thor questioned. 

She looked him dead in the eye and answered as honestly and evasively as she could. “Your dad is weird and not as scary as I thought.” 

This made Lady Sif laugh for some reason. Making someone laugh was comfortable territory for Darcy, pride bloomed and she smiled at the woman. “And how has your evening been so far Lady Sif?” 

The warrior woman was happy to make chit chat, a fact for which Darcy was very grateful. Getting to know Thor’s lady friend was all at once interesting and distracting, the longer they talked the farther her weird conversation with Odin was from her mind. But also, the longer they talked the more certain she was that Lady Sif was in love with Thor. Every story she told centered around him in some way.

Looking over at Thor and Jane giggling and talking quietly she felt a brief stab of resentment for her friend. Knowing Jane had been dangerous, which Darcy could handle because that part wasn’t really Jane’s fault at all, but dragging Darcy into this romantic intrigue referee high school bullshit non-sense? That she could blame her for. 

As Lady Sif concluded another story where she showed up Thor, impressing the men with her warrior prowess and saving the day and the men, the dark haired beauty finally took an interest in Darcy. “Tell me something about yourself Lady Darcy. I fear I do not know much about you beyond your friendships with Lady Jane and Thor.” 

Darcy played with her cup. “Not much to tell I’m afraid. I’m just a normal, regular person.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” Lady Sif prompted, “Your friends speak so highly of you, I expect you’ve had many adventures. Tell me one.” 

“M’not really the adventure type.” Darcy mumbled morosely. “Wacky sidekick is more my speed.”

Looking up she caught a pitying look on Sif’s face. It had her straightening up in her seat and fixing a plastic smile on her face. “I mean, while I’m obviously awesome, before I met Jane I was just a college girl. But..I like animals, I help out those in need when I can and I’m not feeling too lazy. And I’ve lived a good life, a mostly happy one. What more is there to say? I’m a good person. I think. I mean I hope. And…” All of a sudden the urge to make Sif stop pitying her seemed less important than ten seconds before. The compulsion to make those around her laugh and ease the tension, keep things light, keep the peace, avoid being too real, too honest, too serious…she was sick of it. 

Maybe it was the damming drink that loosened her tongue, but her voice changed as she spoke from the heart and with true honesty for the first time in a very long time. “I don’t get enough credit, you know. I’m awesome. When a big damn alien adventure came knocking, I didn’t flinch. It was dangerous and I could have been killed and I could have run away but I stayed. I stuck it out to the end and even stayed loyal enough to do it all over again in the sequel. I helped saved the world.” She was drunk and rambling and feeling embarrassed but couldn’t stop herself from asking Sif, “And, I think that means something about what kind of person I am and what my future holds. Don’t you think?” 

Sif put a hand on her arm and picked up her cup and clinked it with Darcy’s. Silently encouraging Darcy to drink, she obeyed and chugged until Sif stopped drinking from her own mug. Sif then ran one finger along her jaw and smiled at her with fondness but not pity. “Aye Lady Darcy. It means we are kindred in a way I did not expect.” 

“What do you mean?” Darcy asked. 

Sif raised her glass and motioned to Darcy to do the same. The smile on Sif’s face seemed bittersweet as she said, “Let us drink to brave women who are wickedly unappreciated and overlooked.”

“Cheers.” Darcy said quietly before finishing off her ale.  
.  
.  
.  
A few days after the feast Asgard was under attack, kinda. Giant slow moving fuzzy worm things had infested the kingdom seemingly overnight. Everyone was freaking out but Darcy didn’t really get why. Sure they were as big as busses, but they were just kinda inching around and sleeping from what she could tell. They weren’t eating anything or destroying property, they even went out of their way to avoid accidentally hurting anyone.

“Pack a bag but take only what you cannot live without, we must flee to the mountains quickly.” Thor told her as he hustled she and Jane towards their rooms.

“Dude, their like giant caterpillars, what’s the big deal?” 

“They are docile right now, but soon the Lepidoptera will birth their babes and its the young one’s that you must fear.” Thor explained. She and Jane exchanged a look.

“What do you mean?” Jane pressed. 

“And who named them Lepidoptera? That name sucks. You should call them Catermonsters.” Darcy added, but Thor was apparently too stressed to appreciate her attempts to ease the tension. Putting a hand on her shoulder and Jane’s, Thor told them the monster origin story.

“These creatures swarm the city every hundred years or so. They birth their babes and then after a few days they leave. We don’t know why. Odin suspects they are ancient creatures who travel here from another realm just to give birth in safety. We have found it the best practice to just get out of their way. They cause no harm if not provoked and are gentle and helpless enough that it is dishonorable to attack them outright. So…” 

Thor stared at them for a few seconds then exploded, “Let’s go!” 

“Okay, okay.” Darcy said somewhat snottily as Thor hustled her to the door of her room once again, “Stop freaking out, we’re moving.”  
.  
.  
.  
And so, the entire Asgardian population went camping. And just like normal Earth camping, it sucked and it was boring. 

After draining the battery on her phone Darcy wandered away from the camp and decided to find some leaves or flowers or something to press into the pages of a book to take back to Erik. She thought he might appreciate it so; she grabbed her bag and started collecting. She had her ipod blasting show tunes and the sun was high making the forest appear beautiful and magical, like a sprite or a leprechaun might be hiding around a toadstool or whatever. 

Not really aware of her surroundings, so into what she was doing, Darcy tripped on a rock. Only it wasn’t a rock. It was a baby Catermonster. “Oh.” 

The Catermonster was bright green with black specs, it was furry and in her opinion very cute. So naturally Darcy stared at it with bated breath, waiting for it to kill her, but when it didn’t she tried to pet it. It’s furry coat was as soft as velvet. Slowly she let one finger stroke along it’s body, then two, then her whole hand. The thing rolled in delight and wiggled playfully making her laugh. 

There was a stab of pain in her brain and she quickly retracted her hand, but a second later she experienced a warm feeling. But like, in her brain? 

“Weird.” She commented to no one. “Okay, maybe petting the monster wasn’t smart.” She stood up slowly and the stab of pain in her brain was back and so strong this time that it brought her to her knees. The Catamonster baby rolled closer to her and the pain ebbed away. Instinctual she reached out and pet the thing, comforting it and herself. 

The pain was replaced with a pleasant happy feeling. And that was when Darcy realized that the baby Catamonster was somehow psychic? Or something…she wasn’t sure what it was. With her free hand she took out her headphones and stored them in her bag. Hoping her theory was correct she took her hand away from the baby monster’s furry body, instantly the pleasant feeling disappeared. Feeling like she was on the right track she tried to move away from the baby. Pain shot through her body so fast and fiercely that she collapsed to the ground next to the monster. And that’s when she decided to stop testing her hypothesis. 

“Well, crap.” She muttered as she pet the wiggling Catamonster. “Who knew likability could get you into so much trouble?” 

“Darcy?” “Darcy!” “Lady Darcy!” 

Thor, Sif, and Jane were calling her name. “OVER HERE!”

They found her lying on her side with her head propped up on one hand, casually petting the baby Catamonster with her other one. “Hey. So…I think I made a friend? And it’s evil?”

“Crap.” Jane sighed at the same time Sif exclaimed, “Oh Darcy!” She and Thor then began whispering and gesturing to Darcy aggressively. 

Darcy looked to her friend. “So I guess I’m in trouble.” 

Jane took a few steps towards her, “I guess so--”

“NO!” Thor screamed but it was too late. Jane fell to the floor convulsing in agony. Darcy’s eyes widened and she looked down at the adorable creature under her hand. It’s bright green fur had gone pitch black.

Thor held out his hand and Mjolnir flew obediently to his side as Sif drew her sword. In a forced calm tone, Sif said, “Darcy. Do not move.” 

“Do not think.” Thor counseled. “Keep your mind blank.” 

“What?” She exclaimed, her eyes drawn to Jane who was still seizing in pain. “How?!”

“Remain calm.” Sif reminded her in a clipped tone. “It has it’s hooks in your mind. Do not bond with it further.”

“We have to kill it without it figuring it out.” Thor told her. “But first you need to back away so I can smash it with my hammer.” 

“It hurts me when I move away from it.” Darcy tried to explain, but just as soon as the words were out of her mouth, pain seized control of her body. “Ahhh!”

Her cry of pain mixed with Thor’s war cry, “AHH!” He charged forward to save her, to kill the baby Catermonster. And the thought of that, was unpleasant. And suddenly the pain stopped, but also the world disappeared. 

It felt to Darcy like there suddenly was no floor. She was falling and not moving all at the same time and the only thing running through her mind was, ‘home’.  
.  
.  
.  
She landed with a grunt, the baby Catamonster inched its way into her arms and she coddled it close to her chest. Looking around she found herself not in a forest, but in a jungle? Gone were the tall trees of Asgard, she was now surrounded by tangled and overgrown masses of vegetation. And it was hot. 

“Where in the world?” 

A loud barking sound traveled in the air. And the ground began to shake. Something big was coming towards her. She didn’t wait, she didn’t freeze, she ran.

The thing chasing her was bigger and faster though, a loud screeching bark sounded and she chanced a look over her shoulder. There was a feathered dinosaur chasing her.

“OH FUCK!” The second the words left her mouth fear filled her belly and the Catermonster wiggled in her grasp.

The floor disappeared underneath her feet and it was destabilizing. She fell and yet did not move, but this time there was that pleasant feeling in her mind to comfort her through the insanity…the baby monster was trying to comfort her she realized. She pet it or she tried to. Her limbs felt super heavy. Her thoughts were slowing down. She felt like her whole body was under an extreme amount of pressure. The Catamonster wiggled in her arms. 

She felt a question in her mind. There was no ‘who’ or ‘what’ or ‘where’ attached, it was just the ambiguous feeling of a question being asked of her. But her mind was failing her. Her thoughts were like molasses. She closed her eyes as the urge to sleep became overwhelming. She was tired now.

A flash of pain in her mind and then the urgent ambiguous question forced her mind to spit out an answer. 2013. ‘Home’. 

She landed with a thud. This time onto metal, which Darcy considered an improvement. As she looked around her jaw dropped open. There was a spaceship flying over her head and landing a couple feet away from her. From out of a building behind her there was shouting, and then women, black bald women where advancing on her. And they had like, laser shields? What? 

“Dinosaurs. Future angry soldier ladies. What’s next the mouth an erupting volcano?!” She was also annoyed that the Catamonster kept taking her to places filled with killer heat and humidity! Being nice had gotten her nowhere good, so she decided to try another tactic. 

Darcy lifted the baby Catamonster and stared into its face or it’s butt. The thing was so fuzzy it was kind of hard to tell. “Listen to me you weirdo little alien thing! I get that you like me and that’s great I think you’re cute too, but I want to go _home!_ Home to AMERICA, CIRCA 2013! Home of apple pie, daytime TV and Captain MOTHER FUCKING AMERICA! DO YOU GET ME?!”

Pain overwhelmed her senses and Darcy regretted being so bitchy with the baby monster as the floor once again fell away and she felt the pressure return making her head feel slow and heavy.  
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She landed in something soft and cold. This time it took her a minute to feel back to normal but in that minute her skin had grown goose bumps and her teeth began to chatter. She was in snow. She was—“Ouch!” 

Lifting her hand to eye level she found that there was blood coming out of the back of her hand and palm, and about twenty little teeth marks. “Did you fucking bite me?!” 

The Catermonster rolled out of her arms and she thought it would fall into the fluffy snow, completely unharmed, but instead it disappeared. Like, poof. Gone. In the blink of an eye….

She looked around at her surroundings. Everything was covered in white. 

“Fuck.” She put the wind at her back and started walking in a straight line.  
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Four hours later she found her first signs of life when a truck nearly hit her because apparently she found a road! The truck swerved to avoid her and skidded, then turned over a few times before landing at the bottom of the hill she just finished climbing. “Fuck.” 

At least climbing down the hill was easier than up it. 

When she reached the truck she was overjoyed to hear movement from within. She was sorry about accidentally running the vehicle off the road, but if she didn’t kill them she could feel less guilty! It took some effort to open one of the doors but once she did she called out to the people inside, “It’s okay I’m here to help.”

The person inside responded in German or Swedish or something. 

It only at that moment occurred to her how useless she was in this situation, but she figured being reassuring and calm was better than apologizing and freaking out. The wind and snow were still making everything cold and terrible but she managed to help the passenger out of the truck, once he was free she got a better look at him. Or well, a closer look at any rate.

There was a hydra pin on his lapel. He wore a military uniform, but it wasn’t one she recognized, but when he stopped moving and talking she stopped trying to figure out where she was based on his attire and just make sure the guy was alive. 

She checked for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. However in getting closer she did find something familiar. There was a hydra pin on his lapel.

“Aw, Nazis.” She then looked up at the sky and called out, "Uh, Heimdall? Can I get a little help?!"  
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Okay, so the Catermonster. I was thinking of something cute but gross, alien but familiar. Did I nail it?  
They are also based around the seed of the idea from the movie ‘Arrival’. Because while the Catermonsters do traverse dimensions to have their babies, they also only did it once. But also multiple times.  
What do I mean by that? The Catamonsters left their home dimension and went to Asgard billions and eons ago, and they had their babies and it worked out great, so they decided Asgard was their birthing oasis. So in the future, which is also to them the past, they went to Asgard to have babies. But since they exist in all time at once, they only really did it once, but at multiple points of time.  
Confused? Me too, but also not, because this somehow makes sense to me. But also, also, its unimportant background info on this plot device monster I created to get Darcy into the 1940’s Captain America the First Avenger movie era.  
Also, also, also, the monster babies are psychic because they can’t talk. When they grow up they lose their psychic powers. Also the reason why after the dinosaur Darcy was losing consciousness and her mind was slowing down was because traveling the way the Catamonster does is not meant for humans and when she was indecisive about the next destination it kept them traveling longer than was healthy for her.  
Also, also, also, when the monster brought Darcy to the ‘future’ it was actually the right time and earth just like she requested, but she was in Wakanda so she didn’t realize it. Which led to the monster getting frustrated with her and thus when she thought of “America” & ‘2013’, the year 2013 means nothing to a time/space Catamonster. But from Darcy’s mind it connected the word America with Captain America and her thoughts of the poster for war bonds for the time Darcy wanted to go. And thus that is why it took her to the 1940’s.  
…if you can’t tell, I’ve thought about this a bit. 

\-----------------------------------------------------)(--------------------------------------------------------------

Darcy’s Feast Dress  


Jane’s Feast Dress  


1940’s Hydra Guy  



	2. P.O.W.

Chapter 2 – P.O.W.

Surrendering to the enemy did not sit well with Bucky, but faced with Hydra tanks that seemed to disintegrate people in a flash of blue light, it was the only choice he had. Still, as what was left of the 107th was marched into the weapons manufacturing facility in Austria he couldn’t help but hate himself a little bit. 

They were put to work right away. The labor was hard and all the more painful because the prisoners of war knew they were helping construct weapons that would be used to destroy their allies. 

“This is bullshit.” Dum Dum huffed as he and Bucky moved a giant metal plate into position to be compressed by a big machine. He didn’t even know what they were making. A plane? A new tank? Something worse? It was depressing how powerless they were and honestly he was tempted to give into despair, but Steve Rogers wasn’t the only stubborn son of a bitch from Brooklyn. 

“We just need to stay alive.” He reminded his friend, “Survive long enough to escape.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Dum Dum muttered as he and Bucky stepped back. 

“All clear!” He shouted to Dernier who was working the control panel. They watched as a giant metal arm slammed down into the metal plate, forming it into a gear. 

“That’s twelve.” Dum Dum said. He lifted the brim of his bowler hat to wipe at the sweat on his brow. 

Bucky was about to remind him they were told to make fourteen when a shrill whistle sounded and a German accented voice called out from the other side of the room. “Work stop!”

“Thank god.” Dum Dum sighed. “This place is hotter than hell with all these machines going.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky agreed. He lifted the collar of his shirt to wipe away at some of the grime on his body when a guard jostled his arm with the butt of his gun. 

“Line up.” The Hydra solider ordered. He gestured to the other end of the room. 

The weary prisoners formed a line and shuffled forward, they were prodded along by aggressive guards but the motivation wasn’t necessary. For the moment, all the fight had been worked out of the prisoners. 

Ahead of him and Dugan on line he saw Gabe Jones, the dark skinned man stood out among the rest of the mostly white POW, but Bucky didn’t seen any of the other men from his unit. The line finally fully formed started progressing slower.

“They’re giving out something.” Dugan informed him.

“Dinner?” Bucky said hopefully.

Dum Dum snorted. “Yeah, steak and cake.” 

He chortled quietly. “With a brew to chase it down.”

“Heh, yeah. Beer and Nazis, Germany’s greatest exports.” Dugan joked. One of the guards watching over the line overheard his friends joke and smacked him in the head with the butt of his gun. 

“Disrespectful American scum.” The guard snarled. 

“Keep your tongue, keep your head.” A prisoner in front of them advised quietly. Dum Dum grit his teeth and curled his hands into fists, but he didn’t give in to his instincts. Instead Dugan tipped his hat at the man and muttered sarcastically, ‘apologies’. 

Bucky patted him on the back as the guard stalked off to harass someone else. “Good, Dum Dum.” 

“Fuck.” Dugan cursed, clearly frustrated.

“Fuck is right.” A prim sounding Brit agreed from just ahead of them. The man in the burgundy beret turned around and gave them a smile. “As we say in England, we all must keep calm and carry on.”  
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They were given a cup of water and a piece of moldy bread before being herded through the facility and down some stairs. Most of the men finished the meager rations before they reached their ‘accommodations’.

The weapons manufacturing equipment upstairs made the place feel like a sauna, but down in the prison cells there was a drafty wind and a dank smell in the air. The sweat on Bucky’s skin cooled quickly and left him feeling chill. 

One guard grinned maliciously as he took a pair of keys and opened the door to a cell. 

“Hydra thanks you for your service.” He taunted as he shoved the Brit through, causing him to stumble to the floor. He had six more men, him and Dugan included, file into the cell before moving on to the next one. 

“Well, this is terrible.” Dugan commented with a sigh.  
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An hour or so later Bucky knew the names of all his cell mates and a little about them. There was the Brit, James Montgomery Falsworth. He was a Major and a part of His Majesty’s 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade. Guy seemed a bit stuffy, but that could have been the accent. There was a Frenchman, Jacques Dernier, who claimed to be an explosives expert. And a Japanese-American soldier from Frenso, California named Jim Morita. Then Gabe and Dugan who he already knew from his unit. 

Dum Dum was getting all worked up; proposing plan after plan to escape. His ideas were not practical and would most likely end up with them all dead, but he needed to blow off some steam so Bucky let him rant. However all the talk ceased when the large metal door opened and a guard entered the room dragging along a woman. 

“I didn’t realize it was bring your girlfriend to war day.” Dugan joked, but there was edge in his tone that spoke to his anger. The connection between him and his cell mates that developed so quickly was in part due to the fact that they were all on the same side against Hydra. That camaraderie was instantly extended to the woman who looked to be in rough shape and dazed. A lump formed in Bucky’s throat as he watched the guard open the door to the empty cell directly across from his own. He did not want to witness a woman being violated. Slowly he moved to the front of the cell, drawn to the action.

“Rejoice Fraulein.” The guard taunted as he pressed her back up against the bars next to the open door. “Now that Zola has a new crop of prisoners to choose from I’m certain he will stop monopolizing your time with his little tests in favor of conducting his experiments once again. He’s been eager to get back to his work you know. And when he does, I am sure you will be given over to me so I can interrogate you…” The Hydra goon put his hand the woman’s hip and let it slide up her body, “properly.” 

He stopped just short of groping the woman’s chest. 

Bucky felt his blood boil. He pressed his face in between the bars and yelled, “Hey! Leave her alone!” 

Beside him Dugan jeered, “Are you really that ugly you can’t find a date without beating one into submission?”

The woman’s face which previously looked dazed flickered with emotion. She began to struggle, pushing and kicking out she managed to make the Hydra soldier stumble back two steps. But it was clear she’d only managed the feat because he wasn’t expecting it, not because she was strong. In a shaky voice she yelled at the Hydra soldier, “E-eat shit you N-nazi fuck.” 

The Hydra soldier laughed at her mockingly, his attention never deviating from the woman. He grabbed her face roughly his nails digging into her cheeks; he tilted her head from side to side as if inspecting her. “Such a mouth, such disrespect. Who taught you such things I wonder?” 

“Go.” The woman faltered as the fight bled away leaving only exhaustion, “Go t’hell.” 

The Hydra soldier released his grip on her face and let one finger trail down her cheek in a mocking caress. “It is a shame you are contaminated, you would have made a good whore.” 

In a more subdued tone the woman whimpered, “Fuck you.” 

“If only.” He said with a malicious grin, and then in a jarring tonal shift he grabbed her arm and slammed her head back into the bars. The men around Bucky shouted out and jeered in dismay. The Hydra soldier ignored them, slapped the woman then shoved her into the cell. The woman offered no resistance, stumbling but not falling. 

In parting the Hydra soldier said, “I will see you tomorrow Fraulein.” Then he slammed the cell door closed and locked it trapping the women inside. Whistling and twirling the keys casually around one finger the soldier left the room. And the prisoners inside were once again alone. 

“Hey doll.” Dum Dum called out to her coaxingly, “You alright?” 

The woman looked up and her eyes met Dugan’s. Her eyebrows rose as if surprised, but then she looked down chuckling. “For real?” She gestured to their surroundings, “I’m fantastic. How are you? Does your piss bucket smell as lovely and fragrant as mine? Isn’t the plummeting temperature just the bees fucking knees?” 

The vulgar response got a laugh out of Dugan and a couple of the other men. 

Bucky looked over the woman appraisingly. She was half dressed and oddly at that. She wore skin tight pants and dark pink combat boots. A thin tank top that was ripped at the shoulder on one side and down along the seam almost to the bottom of the shirt dangled off her body. Her brasserie was practically on full display and the open sweater she wore on top of it did little to hide her body. The worst part about the outfit was the blood tainting the white of her shirt and sweater. The stark contrast of the colors spoke to the pain she’d been forced to endure thus far.

Underneath all that though, she was gorgeous. She had a unique beauty that wasn't obvious but wasn't easy to hide either.

The woman stumbled until her back hit the wall. Slowly she slid down until she was sitting on the floor facing them.There were dark circles under her eyes and bruises all over her porcelain white skin. Her words had been full of sass and fire, but she looked weary. His heart went out to her.

“Alright, maybe that was a dumb question.” Dum Dum acknowledged before asking, “What’s your name honey?”

She smiled wearily. “I’m not sure if I should tell you.” 

“What’d ya mean you’re not sure if you should--” Bucky interrupted Dugan’s question with one of his own. “How long you been here?”

The woman’s eyes shifted over to him and they went wide. She made a noise like a squeak that was obviously involuntary. Her reaction only served to intrigue him. He repeated himself. “How long you been a prisoner of Hydra?” 

She swallowed thickly before answering, “Not sure exactly. A while? I guess.” 

Gabe moved forward to speak to the woman, “That Hydra soldier mentioned Zo--”

Interrupting the woman offered, “Lohmer. His name is officer Lohmer. From what I can gather he’s pretty hot shit around here. Zola outranks him though. And that pisses him off ‘cause he’s a power hungry asshole with a superiority complex. Not that, that’s a surprise, given the whole Hydra Nazi thing.”

The woman spoke like no dame Bucky had ever met and he was kind of mesmerized by her. Gabe, ever unflappable, nodded at her. “He mentioned Zola. And you and testing you? What did he mean by that? What have they been doing to you?” 

Her eyes only flickered to the dark skinned man briefly before coming back to rest on him. Bucky was flattered by the attention but the look in her eyes wasn’t lust. It was wonder. She stared at him as she responded, “Torture, I suppose. With a sprinkling of interrogation mixed in.” 

“What do they want from you?” Dugan asked. 

The woman’s eyes blinked slowly before averting to the ceiling. She sighed heavily before letting her head fall back to rest on the wall and her eyes close. Bucky figured the woman was done answering questions but then very quietly she said, “Answers.”

“What does that mean?” Dugan pressed but the woman didn’t even twitch in response. 

“Hey!” Dugan hollered loudly, annoyed at being ignored. “Wake up!” 

“Stop.” Bucky put a hand on Dum Dum’s chest ordering, “Leave it alone.”

“She might have information we could use to get out of here.” Dugan insisted.

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledged as he stared at the woman in the cell across from their own. She was a tiny thing, probably no taller than Steve. She had curves, not muscle. She was a woman not a prisoner of war like them. Her being there was a mystery and he was intrigued by it and her. However, she looked really tired and had obviously been through a lot. “Later.” 

“Maybe? Later?” Dugan repeated sounding irritated. 

Gabe put a hand on Dum Dum’s shoulder, “Sarge’s right. We should let her rest. We have no idea who she is or what they’ve done to her, but its Hydra. So whatever’s going on, it’s probably not good. Maybe some leniency is called for.” 

Dugan rolled his eyes and muttered fine.

There was a little bit of whispered speculation about the woman, some talk about escape, but soon the men who’d had a long hard day themselves, fell into exhausted sleep.  
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“Good morning Commanding Officer Lohmer!” A cheery voice woke him the next morning. “I was hoping you’d get tired of sniffing after my pussy and attempt to suck your own dick only to discover that your repressed homosexuality was the source of your aggressive behavior and evil Nazi life choices all along, thus bringing you to a spiritual awakening that ended with you choking on your own dick and dying covered in seaman and vomit.” 

Bucky blinked opened his eyes and saw the woman staring at the Hydra soldier from yesterday as he opened her cell. 

“But here you are, bright early like usual.” Darcy concluded with a crooked grin. “Maybe tomorrow?” 

“Wow.” Dugan sniggered. “You hear the mouth on her?” 

A random Hydra guard was letting the end of his gun clatter across the bar cells as he went through the room yelling, “Get up! Get up you lazy dogs!” 

Officer Lohmer, moved into the cell and grabbed the woman by the arm forcing her to her feet. “I enjoy these little insults you think are so clever. I think though I will enjoy extracting revenge during your interrogation even more.” 

She mocked him sticking her tongue out as he pulled her out of the cell. All around them his fellow prisoners were walking up and threatening to drown out the lone female voice. But as she passed by the cell the woman gave him and his fellow prisoners a brief finger wave saying “Bye fella’s. I’m off to be tortured by the evil mad scientist! I hope you have a nice day, try not to get worked to death!” 

“Shut up!” Lohmer ordered shaking her arm roughly. 

“Now why would I ever do a thing like that when I know how much my voice aggravates you? The fact that I can talk and talk and talk and talk and never ever really say a thing.” Darcy grinned toothily antagonizing him. 

Next to him Morita commented, “I’ll give it to her, she’s got balls.” 

Bucky nodded in agreement, but in his stomach a pit was forming. He could easily read the anger rising in the Hydra officer. Quietly he responded to his friend, “Yeah, but I don’t think she knows when to quit.”

Without another word Lohmer slapped her across the face knocking her head to the side with the force. The men in the cell behind her started jeering. Beside him Dugan yelled out, “Hey asshole why don’t you try that shit on someone your own size!” 

There was a beat while Darcy collected herself, but then she was flipping her hair over her shoulder and meeting Lohmer’s eyes dead on. She smiled at him pleasantly. “Ow.” 

Lohmer’s nostrils flared and the grip on her arm visibly tightened. 

Dugan laughed out loud. “Woo! Atta girl!” 

Around them other prisoners sniggered at the woman’s brashness. There was no mistaking the challenge in her stance. Lohmer snarled and glared at the amused caged men. “Shut up!” 

There was a satisfied smirk on the woman’s face as the Hydra officer forced her out the door. Bucky couldn’t help but feel like she had just made a mistake that would eventually come back to bite her.  
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It was another long day of hard labor for the prisoners of war, but the day was mildly better as they all had the woman to gossip and speculate about as they worked. Bucky kept his opinions to himself by listened passively to the others. 

“Perhaps she was a spy that got caught?” Falsworth proposed as they welded pieces of metal together. 

Gabe Jones disagreed, “A little thing like her? Doubt it.” 

“Looks can be deceiving.” The Brit pressed, “And women are more often than not looked over and dismissed. I think someone like her would make the perfect spy.”

“She’s barely over five feet tall.” Jones said with a frown. 

“Well, you have a point there.” The Brit conceded.  
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“Maybe she’s connected to someone important. Like a general’s daughter or somethin’?” Morita was helping Bucky and Dernier screw in bolts to some machine part none of them could recognize. “Could be a hostage.” 

“And she was what? Just on vacation?” Dernier scoffed, his derision sounded even more snooty with the French accent.

A frown pulled at Morita’s lips, “Maybe.” 

“Doubtful.” 

“Maybe they kidnapped her.” Dugan added to the conversation for the first time. “Maybe she was just a normal girl and they needed a guinea pig for Zola’s ‘tests’.” 

Dum Dum was the only one to directly ask him what he thought about the mystery woman. “What you make of her Sarg?” 

“I think she’s a woman in over her head.” And really that’s all Bucky needed to know about her, to care. “And if she don’t watch it, she’s gonna get herself killed.” 

In general, he wasn’t that optimistic about their chances of survival in any case. Most likely they would all die in that factory at Hydra’s hands, worked to death or executed. He figured the woman’s ultimate fate was no different than their own. But still, she reminded him a little of Steve. 

And he couldn’t help but want to protect her.  
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When they returned to their cells at the end of the work day the woman was already there. She had her back against the wall again, with her legs stretched out in front of her. There was a tear in her pants at the knee the skin underneath was bloody and beginning to crust over. She had a glossy look to her eyes and there was a fresh cut on her bottom lip. 

Looking off into the distance she didn’t respond to any of the men’s calls for attention. 

“Hey! Honey!” “Ma Cherie!” “Doll!” “Sweetheart, can you hear us?” 

She looked like an empty shell of herself. Her sweater, a meager protection against the cold, lay discarded on the floor and covered in more blood than before. It’s removal gave them their first view of her arms. 

Just below her elbow her forearm was black and blue, obviously she’d been stabbed with a needle over and over in the same area and it was now aggravated. Her wrists had the tell tale bruising from restraints. Bucky also noticed that the tops of her breasts, revealed by her brazier, had twin circular singe marks. Marks that matched to the ones near her temple on either side of her head. 

“Mon dieu.” The Frenchman exclaimed as they were hustled inside their cell.

“What the hell did they do to her?” Morita asked, but no one knew the answer. 

“Something terrible.” Bucky said.

“Clearly.” Falsworth stated with a haughtiness that rubbed Bucky the wrong way.

“They hurt her!” Buck bristled, “What more do you need to know.” 

Dum Dum put a hand on his back, “It’s alright Barnes. We’ll get her out of here.” 

“She’s gonna die in here.” Bucky asserted. “We all are.” 

“You’re a ball of sunshine, you know that.” Morita commented sarcastically.  
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He couldn’t look away from the lifeless woman. A few hours into the night she finally closed her eyes and slept, but he never did. When morning came and with it the rousing call of their captures to ‘get up and stop being lazy’, Bucky called out to her. “Hey! Dollface? Are you back with us?” 

He was hoping she’d wake up and be smart mouthed and foolhardy like the previous morning, but she didn’t respond beyond opening her eyes and blinking. Lohmer came for her just as the other guards were hustling them out of the cells and back up the stairs to work.

Bucky didn’t see the interaction by the pair, but he saw that Lohmer was carrying a plate of food. So he had high hopes the man wasn’t intent on killing the incapacitated woman.  
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When they returned to the cells that night the woman was gone and in her place was another handful of soldiers. Through the grape vine he discovered one of the prisoners had been taken for experimentation with Zola and never returned. No one had seen the woman or knew what happened to her. Bucky thought this was because she was dead. 

The men had whispered and gossiped about her fate. Had she escaped? Was she a Hydra plant all along? Was she dead? He tried to ignore them, but it was difficult. The woman’s face consumed his thoughts. It was heartbreaking if it was true, and it most likely was, the wild and brash mysterious woman was dead by Hydra’s hands. 

Miserable Bucky set up shop in the corner of the cell, curled himself up into a ball and tried to fall asleep. Eventually the men stopped chattering and succumbed to need for sleep. 

Bucky could not find peace in sleep though. He stayed awake and wallowed in his dark thoughts, running through scenarios that would have ended with the woman living just a little longer. And then, in the middle of the night when all the other prisoners were sleeping, the door opened.

He held very still but was on high alert straining to hear what was being said by the shuffling figures entering the corridor. 

“I can’t believe they’ve reassigned you to the labor force.” Officer Lohmer sounded irritated. “How could Herr Schmidt be so short sighted?” 

“Yeah such a bummer ya know? I mean who wants to help the evil Nazi’s build an evil bomber plane to blow up New York and other less famous but equally heavily populated American cities?” The woman’s voice almost had Bucky sitting up to confirm with his eyes what his ears couldn’t believe was the truth. She was alive. And she _did_ know things. Maybe not things that would help them escape, but still. 

“I will find out the truth.” Lohmer said in a low voice filled with implied threat. “You may have convinced Zola that you’re a mad woman who just so happened to stumble upon something truly groundbreaking, but I know there is more to you than that.” 

“Yeah I can also juggle.” She sassed. The sound of the cell door opening and the woman being pushed through caused joy in Bucky’s heart because she was being put in _his_ cell. 

“That’s right little girl.” Lohmer said with distain. “You keep making jokes. See where that gets you.” 

“Got me away from you.” The woman challenged. The cell door slammed shut and locked into place. “And Zola.” She gloated. 

“For now.” Lohmer warned. 

“Byyyye!” She mocked as the man’s footsteps echoed away from them. When the door to the corridor closed Bucky sat up and opened his eyes. It took him less than a second to find her. The woman was looking right at him. 

“My name’s Darcy.” She admitted with little fanfare.

“Bucky.”

“I know.” She said, surprising him. “James Buchanan Barnes.” 

“How…?”

“I haven’t decided yet. Please, just don’t. I’ve had a _fucking_ day, ya know?” She answered evasively. He studied her face as she looked over the sleeping men in the cell with them; she was a truly gorgeous woman underneath all the dirt, grime, and injuries. Delicately she stepped over sleeping limbs until she was right in front of him. He stared up at her in admiration but confused and with a quickening heartbeat.

“Who are you?” He asked not able to keep the awe out of his voice.

“I’m cold.” She said with a secret little smile, “Can I snuggle with you?” 

A bewildered smile spread across his lips. “Sure.” 

Without another word she pressed herself into the space between him and Dugan. Snuggled up to his side she wrapped her arms around his torso and pressed her face into his ratty sweater. Tentatively he put his arms around her and held her close. Her bloody and dirty white sweater was missing completely, she only wore the odd brazier and ripped pants and boots. It was scandalous to be so close to a woman this underdressed, but he didn’t care and he doubted she did either. Her skin was covered in goose flesh and he could feel her teeth ever so slightly chattering. 

“You really are cold.” He commented as he rubbed his hand up and down the exposed flesh of her arms. 

“You thought I was what? Lying to get close to you ‘cause you’re so dreamy and handsome? Pfft.” She wrapped one of her legs around his and pressed her whole body closer trying to leech more body heat. “That’s merely a coincidence.” 

Quietly he laughed. And then stopped. It was the first time that he had laughed in a very long time. Maybe even since he’d joined up and left basic training. Thoughts of home and Steve and his family filled his mind. 

“We’re going to get out of here.” She whispered bringing him out of his thoughts. 

“Dollface, I wouldn’t get your hopes up.” He said honesty before he could stop himself. 

She snorted, hiding her face in his stomach to muffle the sound. “You’ll see.”  
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What Prisoner Darcy Is Wearing (imagine Thor tank super ripped up and barely hanging on her body and also a little bloody and dirty) *Yes this is what Darcy would wear ‘emergency camping on Asgard’  


Howling Commando’s Who’s Who Graphic  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENTS WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED!


	3. Crazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in Captain America the First Avenger wiki I read, "Once they were HYDRA's prisoners, they were sent to work at the weapon facility in Austria where they were forced to help make the new weaponry for HYDRA's forces. In October 1943, Barnes met other Allied POWs: including Jacques Dernier and James Montgomery Falsworth. During his imprisonment in the facility, he was viciously beaten by Lohmer, however, other prisoners organized an "accident" which resulted in Lohmer's death.[8] Barnes and his friends worked on parts of the Valkyrie which HYDRA was going to use against to win the war. When Barnes became too weak to continue, he was taken to undergo experiments conducted by Arnim Zola.[1]"
> 
> And that's really what inspired this whole part of the story.

Chapter 3 – Crazy

When they woke up entwined together Bucky expected he and Darcy would have to face a barrage of questions from his fellow prisoners, but that’s not what happened. He woke up cold and alone with the comforting weight and warmth of Darcy’s body clearly long gone from his side. 

Blearily he found the room filled with just a hint of early morning light. The woman, Darcy was sitting in the middle of the cell with all the men gathered round her. She now wore a ratty army green sweater that was about three sizes too big, which was fortunate as it went to her knees and provided her sumptuous figure with more cover. One look at Dugan now clad in only his vest, his biceps bared to the world told him exactly where she got the garment from. And he couldn’t help but berate himself for not making a similar offer when he had the chance. For some reason seeing her wearing Dum Dum’s sweater irked him. 

“And that’s how I convinced my boss Jane, to hire me my own intern to do all my work for me.” Darcy concluded with a charming grin. The men around her laughed enthralled by her story or beauty or just relieved for the distraction. It didn’t matter. She looked as if she had the group of weary soliders eating out of the palm of her hand. 

“Very clever.” Dernier complimented with a sly grin. 

“Cleverness born only of laziness I assure you.” She proclaimed with a cheeky grin. 

Chuckles filled the air. Bucky got up but stuck to the fringes of the group, listening.

Gabe had a grim expression. “You said they’re going to put you to work with us today?” 

The humor fell from her face. Solemnly she nodded. “I failed Zola’s last test. I finally convinced them I’m crazy and useless and that me stumbling upon their secret evil lair was because I had no choice. It was either go towards people or freeze to death in the wilderness. So…” 

“So they’re not going to waste another able body to do their dirty work.” Dugan concluded with a grim frown. 

“Is that true?” Bucky asked. Her head whipped around in his direction and he was pleased when she smiled at him in greeting. 

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty.” She teased with a small grin. 

He smiled at her but it was brief. He repeated himself pointedly, “Is all that true?” 

The door to the corridor of prisoners creaked as it opened. The men began getting ready for their captures arrival, but Bucky kept his eyes locked on Darcy’s. 

“Mostly true.” She told him as the guards entered the room and began to loudly rouse the rest of the prisoners awake.  
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They put her to work with Morita. Little thing that she was, she just didn’t have the muscle to handle most of the jobs the prisoners were tasked with. From his place with Dugan and Falseworth hauling great slabs of metal to and from a machine to make gears, he was grateful he could at least keep an eye on her as she was set to work in the empty space next to his station, but he had little else to be happy about. 

There were a lot of blood stains on the floor where she was because they had her doing one of the most dangerous jobs available. 

Morita was given a sledgehammer and told to hammer long metal rods into a curved sheet of metal at specific points. Each point was labeled with an ‘X’ drawn in chalk. Since the angle was too awkward for the machines to perform the task, more primitive means were needed. At least ten men had been injured—crippled, doing what they had her doing.

Bucky held his breath as Morita lifted the hammer and swung. Darcy didn’t flinch as the metal rod in her hands was struck and went half way through the ‘X’, but he saw her wince. Her job to hold the rod in place was one that had crushed men’s hands and worse. 

Morita struck again and Darcy jerked away as the rod slid all the way in place. He prayed to god to protect her. To keep her safe, to keep her whole.

The end of a gun struck him in the temple mid-prayer. 

“Work!” A guard commanded him with a growl, bringing his attention back to his own job. He hurried over to where Dugan was waiting for him; he couldn’t lift the metal by himself it was a two person job. His friend gave him a quick grin as they lifted the heavy hunk of metal and carried it over to their designated machine. 

“Got yourself a little crush, Sarge?” Dugan teased as they fit the metal into place. 

“Shut up.” He grunted as they staggered back away from the powerful machine. 

“All clear!” He called out, giving Falsworth the signal to let the machine arm down. The heated machine slammed down with a _clang_ as it sizzled and compressed the hunk of metal into its mold. When it lifted away a shiny silver gear was waiting for he and Dugan to remove it. 

His eyes drifted back over to Darcy. Her hands were bleeding, she probably held on too tightly as one of the rods was hammered into place. The rod holders all ended up with bloody hands by the end of the day. 

“She’ll be fine.” Dugan told him as he prompted him to move forward. Mechanically Bucky grabbed his end of the gear and lifted it out of its mold. The action strained his lower back something fierce but he and Dugan moved fluidly completing the task. 

“She’s a tough one.” Dum Dum added. 

Setting down the gear onto the finished table, Bucky met his friend’s eyes and nodded. “She’s tough, but nobody lasts long in that job--” he gestured to her station with his head, “You know that.”

“Morita won’t hurt her.” Dugan insisted.

“He won’t mean to.” Bucky said, ending the conversation by turning back to the pile of metal they had yet to get to.  
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Throughout the day his eyes wandered over to Morita and Darcy periodically. They seemed to be working well together; he even saw her laughing once. And yet, Bucky couldn’t help but hold his breath whenever he caught Morita in mid swing. One centimeter off and he could catch her knuckles, an inch he could slam the hammer down onto her arm breaking it. 

Injured men who couldn’t work were either executed on the spot or taken away to the isolation ward. Before Darcy they just knew the men were never seen again, now they knew they were most likely used as human test subjects for Zola’s experiments. Almost all of the rod holders ended up gone, one way or another. Still, some lasted longer than others. And he prayed for Darcy to last long enough for rescue or escape. Not that he had much faith in either scenario coming true. But still, he hoped and prayed for her.

Near the end of the day Bucky was dead tired and he knew Dugan was too. Hauling metal around all day was not a job for the weak but it could wear down even the strongest of men. As they waited for their last metal gear to be molded into place by the machine, he let his eyes close for just a second. He just wanted to sleep. His belly was growling and his tongue felt like sandpaper but more than anything he just wanted to lay down and sleep. 

A loud shrill cry of pain rang out in the air. 

His eyes went straight to Darcy; a rod lay on the ground at her feet. 

Silently he thanked god. She and Morita watched in horror as the man working next to their station screamed in pain holding up his mangled bloody hand with a look of fear on his face. The man who had struck his fellow soldier looked shocked and afraid. 

“I’m sorry.” He shouted dropping his sledgehammer. “It slipped!” 

The man with the injured hand could have been angry and lashed out, but he didn’t. Guards were already approaching their position. He would soon be taken away and everyone knew it. Sounding resigned the injured man tried to console his fellow prisoner, “It wasn’t your fault John. Don’t blame yourself.”

The guards reached them; one immediately wiped a hand over his face and cursed in German, exasperated. The other struck out at the man who had made the mistake. With his gun he bashed the man in the side of the head yelling out, “Clumsy idiot!” 

A shrill whistle sounded signaling the end of the work day. A German accented voice called out from the other side of the room, “Work stop!” 

The guards converged on the injured man forcing him to his feet. As the machines were turned off and the noise of the room decreased the sound of sobbing could be heard clearly. 

“I’m sorry!” The man who had swung the hammer that had crushed his friend’s hands and gotten him hauled off to never been seen or heard from again, cried out pitifully. “I’m so sorry!” 

The guards drug the injured man away, heading for the isolation ward.  
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When they were back in their cells, a moldy piece of bread and a pitiful cup of soup in their bellies later, the mood was very somber. Bucky gravitated to the woman’s side. Gabe was helping her wrap her hands, he’d used his own scarf to create makeshift bandages. 

The dark skinned man smiled at her, “I think they’ll hold.”

“Thanks.” She said quietly. “I appreciate it.” 

Gabe put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Well, you’re one of us now. And we look out for each other.” 

She nodded and he moved away. Bucky took his place and settled down onto the floor next to her. She scooted away from him, closer to the bars of their cell. 

“I smell worse than usual or something?” He questioned.

“I don’t want to talk.” She told him sounding weary. “I can’t—I still haven’t made up my mind.” 

“You said that before, I still have no idea what you’re talking about.” He informed her with one of his most charming grins. He wanted her to trust him. To talk to him. Share her story and so much more. “Maybe you could explain?” 

He wanted to know her.

“Explain what exactly?” She asked, not meeting his eyes. 

“Everything?” He said. He knew everyone in the cell could hear them, but the moment felt intimate between them anyway. She looked him in the eyes and opened her mouth and…then she closed her lips and looked away. 

“I’m tired.” She said quietly.

“You can trust me.” He whispered, “I won’t—you don’t have to be afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid.” She sighed and looked at him in the eyes again and smiled, but it looked forced. “I’m just tired.” 

She was lying, or well—more like making excuses not to talk to him and that irked him. But he tried to not let it show. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” She repeated. 

Dugan was spinning his wheels with new plans on how to escape. The brutality of the day and Darcy’s presence seemed to have inspired him. They all listened to him, let him vent, let him go on and on about outlandish plots to escape that would never come to fruition. And then Dum Dum turned and fixed his eyes on Darcy. “You know anything that might help us get out of here honey?”

“We’ll get out of here alive, but I’m not sure when.” She spoke with confidence and that surprised him. All of them, really. 

“How do you know that?” Dernier asked suspicion bleeding into his tone.

“Rescue is on its way.” She informed them. “But like I said, I have no idea when and no specifics on how.” 

“What do you mean when you say ‘rescue’?” Dugan pressed, sounding skeptical. “The army? They’re sending in the troops for _us_?” 

Equally dubious Gabe asked Darcy, “Ma’am, are you with the army? I didn’t see anyone who looks like you during my basic training, that’s for sure.” 

“How did you come by this information?” Falsworth asked, his British accent making the question sound like an accusation. 

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Morita said the allegation in his tone on full display. 

It was clear the men were just as desperate for information as he was, but the way they were going about it was terrible. Jumping on her all at once and without pause? Standing around looming threateningly? Ganging up on her brought out his protective instincts even more so. 

“Hey!” Bucky slipped his arm around the woman’s shoulders and pulled her into his side, “Calm down.” 

“I told you I didn’t want to talk.” She quietly reminded him. “This is why.” She raised her voice and addressed the men surrounding them, “So many questions I can’t answer, this is what I was trying to avoid.” 

“What do you mean?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t know.” She told him with a tiny shrug, but tears were welling up it the woman’s eyes and her lower lip trembled as she spoke, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. I don’t what to say or to not say. I don’t know if the truth will help or hurt. And I don’t know what to do because everything I do has consequences and--but I’m—I’m thinking about it. I’m...”

She ducked her head and sniffed, quickly wiping away a tear before it could roll down her cheek. Bucky looked at the men and glared. Dum Dum responded immediately, he took a deep breath and got down on his knees so he was on the same level as he and Darcy on the floor. 

Gently Dum Dum tapped Darcy’s foot and apologized. “Sorry, honey. Didn’t mean to overwhelm ya.” 

Darcy bent her legs and pulled away from his touch. Wrapping her arms around her knees she didn’t look up to meet anyone’s eyes. This made Dugan sighed regretfully. “We shouldn’t have piled on ya like that. But you got to understand, we’re desperate. And you’re…” 

He seemed lost for the right word.

“A mystère.” Dernier supplied.

“Added responsibility.” Morita added, making her look up again. 

“Hope.” Falseworth said with a nod. As Darcy looked over at the men each one crouched down and found a spot on the floor in front of them making the assembly far less intimidating to face. 

“You’re an unknown quantity,” Gabe told her straight. However he softened the truth by giving her a small smile and adding, “But not an unpleasant one.” 

“Finding you here is a gift.” Bucky said bringing her attention back to him. He tightened his arm around her. “And a curse.” 

“Because you believe we’re all going to die here.” She said with a soft look of dawning realization. 

“It’s the most likely scenario.” He told her not looking away from her eyes. They were big and blue and beautiful and shiny with unshed tears. He held back from telling her how he prayed it could end another way, especially for her. 

“Honey?” Dugan prompted, stealing her attention from Bucky. “How do you know we’re going to be rescued? You danced around giving us straight answers this morning and to be honest, we were just excited to meetcha so, we let it go. But we got time now.” 

“What were you doing out in the wilderness?” Bucky asked. “Why did you, as you claim, just happen to stumble upon Hydra’s set up here?”

She averted her eyes back to herself. With one hand she poked at the scab on her right knee. “You won’t believe me and if I tell you it might not be true anymore. It might be true now that I’ve already changed things. But also, it could destroy the universe. Like, maybe. So. It’s complicated.” 

“Huh.” Dugan commented unintelligently. 

“Not the response I was expecting.” Falsworth added.

“Not making a lot of sense either.” Morita said bitingly. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky pressed his voice soft and his hold on her retracting. Her head snapped in his direction as he disengaged from her person. The worst possible scenarios ran through his mind. “Are you a spy? Is this a trick? A game? A way to extract information from us that they couldn’t get through conventional interrogation?” 

“Mon Dieu, that did not even occur to me.” Dernier mused. 

“It occurred to me,” Falseworth bragged, “If you’ll recall.” 

“Darcy?” Bucky prompted his voice devoid of emotion. He wanted nothing more than to gather her back up in his arms and assure her he was only being hard on her because she was being so evasive. She looked small and fragile and beautiful and he wanted to save her. And she was such a exquisite thing, it seemed ridiculous that Hydra would use her for manual labor let alone house her in _his_ cell. The pessimistic part of his being couldn’t help but question the one good thing in his life, even if it threatened to alienate her. 

Slowly she unwrapped her arms from around her legs and crossed them underneath like a child. She straightened her back and met his gaze head on. 

“I’ve decided.” She announced. He nodded like he knew what she was talking about even though really he had no idea. “I’ve decided that I can’t worry about the universe collapsing in on itself because of physics I can’t begin to comprehend, because this is the life I’m living and I can’t not live it. It’s too hard to live without affecting change; I think it’s impossible actually, so I can’t worry about that anymore. And if I’m not worried about changing things, I can’t worry about the consequences, because there’s nothing I can do.” 

“What?” Dugan asked sounding as confused as Bucky felt.

She continued on speaking as if he said nothing, her voice becoming more passionate with ever word that left her lips. “I can’t worry about the McFly siblings disappearing. Or John Conner and the robot apocalypse. Or time turners and timeline logistics. Or the crappy Ape’s reboot where the Lincoln Memorial ended up being a gorilla.”

“I say again, what?” Dugan quipped. 

Again, Darcy ignored him. She turned, speaking to him and only him. “I was in the middle of a the fucking forest and I had no bars on my phone and Heimdall hasn’t answered any of S.O.S. attempts, so even though I knew I was probably walking into a Hydra outpost I had no choice, it was snowing and I was going to freeze to death so I hid my stuff and walked in the front door. But I didn’t really know what I was walking into!” 

He wanted desperately to believe she was some lost soul who got mixed up in this through random misfortune. He reached out and cupped her cheek gently, telling her “You’re not making any sense Dollface.” 

She put her hand on his, keeping them connected. “I know.” She admitted. “That’s part of the problem.” 

She removed his hand from her face but kept hold of it in her own. “I don’t know how to explain without sounding like a crazy person.” 

“Maybe you really are a crazy person?” Morita said under his breath. Bucky turned to glare at the man but Dugan was already hitting him with his elbow. He at least had the decency to look chastised. 

“Why don’t we make it simple?” Falsworth proposed. “Are you a member of Hydra?”

“Fuck no.” Darcy answered quickly whilst also sounding highly insulted, making Dugan and Gabe chuckle. But Bucky just felt relieved. 

Falsworth’s lips twitched upward as he asked, “Are you with the military? And if so, which one?” 

“I’m a civilian.” She told them sounding genuine. “As civilian as you can possibly get. Which is probably why I haven’t taken all this torture and imprisonment really well. I’m literally probably the worst person this could have ever happened to. I mean—I wasn’t built for this.” 

“You’ve done alright.” Gabe said, trying to sound encouraging.

She gave him a flat look, “I haven’t died or been raped, what a fucking accomplishment.” 

Gabe opened his mouth to argue further but Falsworth beat him to it. “Why were you in the forest? You said you had no choice but to come here, but why were you in the wilderness to begin with.” 

Darcy sharply inhaled and then breathed out slowly. She nodded to herself and reached up to push some hair behind her ear. Under her breath she muttered, “Okay, okay.” 

“I believe you.” Bucky said, making her eyes snap up to his. “Everything you’ve said so far, I believe you. I--” he smiled at her reassuringly, “I don’t quite understand everything you’ve said, but I believe you’re being honest with us.” 

“I am.” She said softly, “As honest as I can be.” 

“Without sounding crazy?” He prompted. 

“Yeah.” 

“So what’s the crazy part?” Bucky asked.

“I’m from the future and I got here via alien monster time and space portal.” 

No one knew what to say. And so for a good long minute nothing was said. And then she had to open her mouth and say something even crazier. 

“That’s how I know that Steve Roger is coming to rescue us and the rest of the 107th, but not when. I’m not very good with dates, infamous or otherwise.”

“Steve’s in New York.” He told her at the same time Dugan asked, “Who’s Steve?” He continued without pause, “And Steve’s about 100 pounds soaking wet. He’s shorter than you. Got asthma. And heart problems. And--”

Suddenly he just felt so angry. But not with her. He could tell she believed everything she was saying. And somehow that just made it worse. “How do you even know his name? What he is to me?”

“Because he’s Captain America and you’re his best friend.” 

“Who?!” Dugan exploded, probably annoyed by being so confused and excluded from the conversation. 

The anger bled from him only to be replaced with pity and sadness. “They hurt you, they broke you. They drove you crazy, but it’s okay. It’s not your fault.” 

He reached for her and he expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She melted into his embrace and pressed her face into his shoulder. 

“I know you don’t believe me, none of you,” She grabbed hold of his sweater tightly with one fist and closed her eyes, he wondered if it was easier to talk to them if she didn’t have to look at them or if she really was just exhausted. 

“I debated telling you all the truth, I’m still not sure I’m doing the right thing, or if it will all blow up in my face, but—I hid my stuff before walking into here, only I didn’t realize I was in the wrong decade. They brought me into see Zola and Schmidt and that’s when I knew I was in the wrong time. I learned about Zola some when the Shieldra files got leaked, but Schmidt? Red Skull? I learned about him when I learned about the Holocaust back in grade school.”

“What’s the Holocaust?” Bucky asked.

“You’ll find out when the war is over and they name it.” She said her voice filled with exhaustion but strangely she also sounded unburdened. He imagined she felt relief at not having to hide what she considered her big secret, but knowing now how damaged her mind was, Bucky felt as if that weight had transferred onto himself. Hydra had obviously tortured Darcy to the point of insanity; he felt duty bound now to make sure she escaped with her life. 

He was grateful his friends were remaining so silent, but wary of why. He hoped they saw how broken she was and did not hold her madness against her. She was a victim and telling them they would all make it out alive, that rescue was coming, that Steve was coming? That was a delusion. But hope was a dangerous thing. Telling them of her delusion with such confidence might seem like cruelty to them. They might resent her. Hate her. Bucky didn’t want that. 

“I’ve got to take a piss.” Dugan announced, excusing himself from the uncomfortable conversation as politely as he knew how. Bucky began to rub her back and he felt her further relax against him. The others dispersed, making their way to the other side of the cell providing the two of them with as much privacy as possible. 

“I would never expect to believe me without proof,” Darcy said quietly, “but I wasn’t really planning to tell you the truth in the first place. So…when Steve gets here you’ll see. You’ll believe me then. And hopefully--I don’t even know how to fix this or who to go to for help to fix this.” 

“We’ll get you the help you need.” He assured her as he began to pet her hair. “I promise.” 

“You think I’m insane.” She said sharply, “you’re humoring me.” 

“I think you’ve survived and it’s taken a toll.” Bucky pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “I think whatever story you’ve come up with, it saved you. Got Zola off your back, got you reassigned to do labor with us, and--”

“When I first saw Schmidt I started screaming at the top of my lungs for Heimdall to open the Bifrost and save me. This apparently intrigued him because, side note? Surprise, surprise Red Skull’s a fan of monologueing” She made a noise of disgust, “so cliché. Anyway he apparently found the Tesseract hidden in a wall behind a carving of Yggdrasil and thinks it was sent here by the gods during ancient times or whatever, its annoying how close to the truth he is. And then, my watch got set off and it was all downhill from there.” 

She looked up at him and he was struck by the vulnerability in her expression. “Zola found out I’m covered in stuff that’s like the Tesseract as in a gamma-radio-something-signature not of this earth, and with talking about Asgard and stuff, Red Skull ordered Zola to conduct tests on me to see if I’m alien.”

Bucky listened to her story but now knew he could believe very little of what she said. He disregarded the more outlandish parts and focused on what was probably rooted in truth. “What kind of tests?” 

“Painful ones.” She answered quickly. 

“Gamma-radio-what?” He prompted.

“Non-lethal trace particle something science-y I didn’t catch it all. Though Zola did spread the rumor that if any of the guards fucked me their dicks would shrivel up and fall off because I’m radioactive.” Bucky’s hand stilled on her hair for just a moment before resuming the calming stroking motion. His blood boiled at the thought of Lohmer or any other Hydra guard trying to violate her in that way. 

“Decent of him.” Bucky commented.

“I think he just wanted to keep me from becoming too damaged to endure his tests without dying.” She told him with a yawn. 

“Tired?” He asked softly.

“Mmhmm.” 

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” He pressed another kiss to her hair and then rested his cheek on the top of her head. He could feel himself becoming too emotionally invested in her but he was powerless to stop it. And it wasn’t because he had a crush. Or not _just_ a crush. 

His attraction to her aside Darcy’s fate filled him with emotion he could not suppress. He had signed up to fight in a war; he had volunteered to fight to protect his country and all the innocent people in harm’s way. He doubted Darcy had done the same. It wasn’t fair for them to end up in the same place. She didn’t belong. He wanted to protect her. But the dark and pessimistic part of him knew he could do little to truly shield her from whatever was to come next. 

Comfort however? He could do that. 

“Relax.” He advised, as he massaged circles into her lower back. “I’ll be right here.” 

“But Bucky,” She yawned again, “My watch.” 

“What watch?” He questioned softly. 

“I’ve got to tell you about my watch.” She sounded half asleep already.

“Tell me tomorrow.” He whispered.

“Okay…remind me.” 

“Okay.” 

He exchanged a look with Dugan, the man nodded at him and he just knew in his heart the men in this cell would try to help protect Darcy. They were men of honor who had sighed up to fight an honorable war. Morita, Falsworth, Gabe, Dernier, all the men nodded at him and in their eyes he saw pity and anger. What had been done to the beautiful woman in his arms was an injustice. And if they could avenger her, they would. 

All they needed was an opportunity to do so, that wouldn’t get them killed. 

But realistically, they would all probably end up dying, trying.  
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Bucky woke up to the sound of Darcy screaming in pain and her warmth being snatched away from his chest. 

“OW!” Darcy screamed as her hair was pulled by officer Lohmer through the bars of the cell that she had been pressed up against. He slammed her head back into the bars again and again, making her cry out in pain. “STOOOOP!” 

In an instant Bucky was up and reaching through the cell bars for the man’s neck. Lohmer stabbed a baton into his side he heard a little _‘zap’_ of electricity and then pain and was radiating throughout his body and he was falling onto his back convulsing. 

“Tell me Fraulein, when you fucked this dog did you take on the whole pack as well or was it a performance for their amusement?” Lohmer wrapped Darcy’s hair around his fist until it was so tight that her head was pressed against the metal bars painfully. “Did you warn them of what will happen to their Schwanz after sticking it in your contaminated hole?” 

“Fuck y--” She didn’t even get the chance to insult him. Quick as lightning Lohmer struck out at Darcy with the baton. Once, twice, three times he stabbed her zapping her with the advanced Hydra weapon causing her to convulse and cry. 

And then he let her go. 

He then stood up like nothing had happened, put the baton back in place on his belt and smoothed down the front of his uniform.

Bucky who had only been shocked with the Hydra weapon once could only imagine how Darcy felt after receiving three pulses. His skin felt like it was on fire and his insides felt like they were filled with ants. 

“You’re going to pay for that.” Dum Dum said darkly. Bucky looked up at his fellow prisoners and found all of them on their feet and looking ready to tear they Hydra officer apart with their bare hands. 

“Time to work.” Lohmer informed them as he confidently unlocked their cell.  
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He stuck close to Darcy and managed to get paired with her hammering in rods. And he was at once overjoyed and filled with despair. Her hands and her life were in his. It was a heady responsibility and he did not take it lightly. With every swing of the hammer he put her in danger. And she trusted him. Implicitly it seemed. 

“Go again.” She encouraged. He was tired, they’d been at it all day and he’d almost slipped and hit her just seconds before. 

“I need a minute.” He told her, “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Lohmer’s circling. Don’t give him an excuse to mess with you.” She informed him with a hard look in her eyes. “Go again.” 

“I can’t.” He told her, his body was spent. All the stress, hard labor, lack of food and water, it was a miracle he was still on his feet. If he swung the hammer right then he knew there was a good chance he’d make a mistake and hit Darcy. 

“Why have you stopped?” Lohmer asked as he approached from behind. “Work!” 

Darcy tried to make excuses, “He just needed a breather. We’re fine.” 

She met his eyes and nodded encouraging him to do what she’d told him and not give Lohmer an excuse. He didn’t want to but Bucky picked up the hammer and took aim. Darcy’s hands were slick with blood but she held the rod in place without so much as twitching. He didn’t make the decision, it was instinct. 

He swung the hammer in a circular arc, bringing it around to hit Lohmer who was right behind him. 

But Lohmer wasn’t an idiot. He ducked and struck out with his own weapon, zapping him in the gut with his baton. The sledgehammer fell from his hands as he was zapped again. Hunched over to protect his belly Lohmer struck him in the head and then he was on the floor. 

“Stop!” Darcy cried out but there was no way Lohmer was listening. He started to kick Bucky in the gut and instinctually he covered his head and prayed to god his stupidity wouldn’t be taken out on Darcy after he was dead. 

Blows rained down on him and his awareness of what was going on behind the wave of pain faded. Until finally the angry kicks stopped. 

With a groan he rolled onto his back and clutched his stomach. He could feel it; his ribs were cracked if not broken. He looked up to find Lohmer being restrained by Dugan and Gabe. But he could also here shouting in German and the slapping of boots coming towards them. 

“Let him go.” Bucky advised his friends, “Get away.” 

His friends didn’t listen and instead dragged the Hydra officer out of his sight. And then Darcy was by his side. Her small and bloody hand on his cheek tilted his head towards her.

“-re you okay?” She looked so concerned and he just wanted to lie to her and tell her he was fine, to make her smile at him one last time.

“My ribs broken.” He answered honestly. “Maybe my head too.” 

“Why’d you do that?!” She demanded shrilly.

“I don’t know.” He said, and that was the truth. What he’d done had been unplanned and stupid on multiple levels and what’s worse his friends might also suffer punishment for trying to help him. And Darcy, just for being there. “Tell ‘em it was all me. Don’t let them--”

The other guards arrived. One grabbed Darcy up forcing her to her feet. The demanded answers of her. “What happened?” 

They had their guns out and were aiming at the others, Bucky strained to see what was going but the Hydra soldiers were in his way and besides he was starting to lose consciousness. It felt like he just blinked his eyes but when he opened them again the two guards were on the ground next to him and it was clear he had missed out on some of the action. 

Gabe and Dernier were restraining one man, Dernier and Morita the other, Dugan was going through the guys pockets for what purpose Bucky didn’t know. 

A shot rang out and he heard the bullet ricochet off the machinery. And then the sound of more soldiers approaching their position. He didn’t know what was going on, he lifted his head and looked for Darcy. 

He found her approaching Lohmer from behind. The man had a pistol out and was pointing it at Falsworth. Darcy announced herself before attacking, like an idiot. “If I had the leg strength I would kick you in the chest dramatically.” 

Lohmer turned just in time to see Darcy shoving him hard making him stumble back and fall onto the gear mold of a nearby machine. But before he was even completely laid out she was making a mad dash across to the control panel screaming, “THIS IS SPARTA!” 

She jumped up to reach the lever and lifted her feet off the ground using her full body weight to make it move. Instead of watching what she was causing to happen, Bucky studied her face as she looked over her shoulder to watch as the metal arm of the machine came down on Lohmer crushing him, filling the gear mold with guts and blood and bone. 

She looked so surprised. But Bucky wasn’t. Dugan was right, she was a tough one. Still, it was probably her first kill and his heart went out to her. 

“Kapitulation!” A solider demanded as Hydra guards swarmed the area with guns drawn. A nearby solider that Bucky didn’t recognize threw himself at the man who had spoken. Perhaps inspired by their actions other prisoners joined the fray. 

Some were shot with traditional weapons; others were struck by the blue atomizing light of the advanced Hydra weapons that had prompted them all in surrendering in the first place. All the prisoners had to fight back with were the tools they were given to do Hydra’s bidding. It became chaos. 

He was relieved when his friends threw themselves on the floor and scrambled for cover. Dugan was laughing as he dragged Bucky behind the curved metal he’d been hammering away at all day. “Damn it feels good to be back in the fight.” 

“Really? Because I feel like shit.” Bucky groaned as the movement aggravated his injures. 

“Oui, but we are outmatched.” Dernier agreed. “What should we do?” 

“Hey!”

“We need to rush them all together, they won’t be able to kill us all.” Dugan suggested. 

“Hey!” 

“That’s a terrible plan.” Dernier disagreed.

“Hey!”

“Well, what’s your bright idea?” Dugan asked poking the Frenchmen in the chest. 

“HEYYYYYY!” Darcy screamed loud enough to cut through the noise, “EVERYONE STOP FIGHTING!” Bucky was very surprised when the Hydra soldiers stopped firing and the noise in the room became tolerable once again. 

“I killed Lohmer.” Darcy shouted, “The other prisoners tried to protect me, but they give up now. Okay? And so do I!” 

“No!” Bucky shouted as Darcy raised her hands above her head and came out of hiding. 

“What the fuck is she doing?” He whispered, grasping at Dugan’s vest as if his friend had more answers than he.

“I think she’s trying to save us.” Dum Dum replied glumly.

“PRISONERS, LINE UP!” An angry German voice called out. And slowly, they did as it said. Well, everyone except Darcy who was being escorted to the isolation ward and Bucky who couldn’t get off the floor.

Dugan hesitated before leaving his side. “Go.” He insisted shoving at his friend weakly, “I’ll be fine-”

“If you can’t work, you know what they’ll do to you.” Dugan reminded him. 

“I know.” He said. And he did. He knew what he was doing. Dugan left his side and joined the other prisoners who were lining up to be put back in their cells. 

“Little help?” He said calling the attention of the guards to his injured self. 

“I can’t get up.” He admitted meeting the cold assessing gaze of one of the Hydra soldiers. 

“Dieser ist nutzlos.” The soldier said to his comrade. 

“Wir warden ihn nach Zola schicken.” The other replied. And then he was being grabbed up under his arm pits and drug in the same direction Darcy went.  
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Armin Zola greeted his escorts with a smile. “Another one? How fortune. Strap him down next to the woman.”

Bucky felt sick as he was put on a slab next to Darcy who was being strapped down. She was crying silently and staring at the ceiling, obviously dreading what was to come next.

“You can leave once he’s secure. I doubt they’ll be able to cause such a ruckus after I get started.” Zola took off his glasses and cleaned them with a rag from his pocket looking more like a librarian than someone to be feared. 

The scientist moved to Darcy’s side and looked down at her once his glasses were back in place. “I’m disappointed Fraulein, I expected to get a few more weeks of labor out of you before it came to this.” 

“Go fuck yourself you Oppenheimer wannabe.” Her insult had no heat to it; she was just going through the motions. Bucky worried for Darcy’s state of mind as she wept openly before their enemy. 

“Leave her alone.” He called out as the soldiers tightened his restraints and left the room. “If you gotta hurt somebody, hurt me.” 

“No!” She called out, “He’s injured, focus on me. I’m tougher I last longer.” 

Zola looked between the two of them, back and forth, back and forth, and then he laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve found love Fraulein. Here?” His mocking laughter rang out. “With this pitiful specimen?” 

“Just leave him alone.” Darcy pleaded weakly, “You know you like me more. You lied so your men wouldn’t rape me. You like me, so focus on me. Leave him alone and focus on me.” 

Zola smirked at her. “Ja fraulein, I lied for you. It was a small mercy. But I’m afraid we are now beyond such things.” He picked up a shiny looking instrument and smiled ruefully, “Shall we begin?”  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Ideas? Questions? I'd love to hear from you.  
> xoxo Thanks for reading.


	4. Captain America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 3 day weekend to my American readers.

Chapter 4 – Captain America

Despite what he said Zola did show her mercy. He favored Bucky when it came to experimenting and seemed to be using the injured man as practice for future interrogation techniques. Bucky gave up nothing of import though and in Darcy’s opinion he held up well under the mad scientist’s intense focus. At least for a while. 

It was almost unfair how differently they were treated. She was sure that in some dark part of Bucky’s heart he had to resent her at least a little, because for all his threats and showboating Zola was a weak man. He had no stomach for torturing Darcy for no reason. 

When she had been in his hands before the man had been methodical and impersonal in his cruelty, this time was no different. She thought at first it was because there was still humanity in him. She knew better now. Zola was a scientist through and through. He tried to project threatening and evil when the other guards were around or when he thought they might be listening, but that wasn’t who he was. He did not care enough to hate. He did not care enough to care. He was cold, logical, and curious. Science and the pursuit of it were who and what Zola was. He lived to discover and test limits of human possibility, and he did not care who had to die or suffer for him to learn such things. 

And so the most painful thing Zola did to her this time was to bolt her to the table using metal rods, inserting them through her body and out the other side of the slab he had her on. Secured with two simple nuts she was rendered immobile in the most painful and efficient way possible. And he warned her that if she didn’t ‘behave’ he’d do the same thing with her ankles. He wanted her security to be a nonissue and it was. She couldn’t sit up or lift off the table or move her arms more than a few inches. 

After all that, he hung up an IV with some weird colored stuff and mostly left her alone. In the morning he’d run some electricity through her brain, but only for a few minutes. He’d review the readouts, take her vitals, and then hang a new IV before shifting focus to his other victim. The hardest part for her wasn’t the pain of her brutal restraints or the indignity of asking for a bedpan so she didn’t pee her pants, it was listening to what he did to Bucky. 

After a day or two, she wasn’t exactly sure how long they were there, Zola began to elicit screams and begging from Bucky. And then silence as he administered electroshock therapy. And then, after a time, again she wasn’t sure how long, Bucky started repeating one phrase and it was the only thing he would say. Over and over and over. 

When Zola left for the night, at first they would talk. Take their minds off the pain of the day while they waited for exhausted sleep to claim them. She grew to like Bucky more and more over the course of these chats. He had a sharp wit and a dark sense of humor that she appreciated. He was also an outrageous flirt and she was a sucker for flattery. However after his mind seemed to break, he would only repeat his name and dog tag number. Over and over and over. 

Even when they were alone. That’s when she started to worry. Had she altered time? Was Bucky broken? Is this how it was supposed to go? She tried over and over to get him to talk to her. To respond, but it was like he couldn’t hear her. And he since he couldn’t hear her, or see her, she didn’t exist.

It was then that she started to alternate silently praying for Steve to arrive and screaming at Heimdall to open the Bifrost and save them.  
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She tried to keep track of time but somehow it slipped away from her. When Zola got called away by a nervous looking Hydra goon she didn’t think anything of it. Then the sound of shouting and shooting and explosions reached her ears and she realized what was happening. 

“Bucky,” She croaked, her mouth was painfully dry, “He’s here. He’s come for us.” 

An alarm began to sound.

Zola came running into the room, brushing past her and Bucky he went to his desk and quickly began stuffing files into a bag. She had vague recollections of watching a documentary where historians talk about Steve’s early _explosive_ exploits as Captain America, but she’d seen it in grade school and it was put on by a substitute teacher, so she wasn’t sure, but she was pretty sure she knew what had Zola on the run. 

“So I take it Cap’s here?” Darcy gloated. “Ships going down?” 

Zola didn’t stop what he was doing as he responded, “Fraulein if only we had more time I would take you with us.” 

Not exactly eager to be a Nazi hostage she was still curious and asked, “What do you mean?”

He spared her a glance over his shoulder as he put on his hat, “I think you would have been one of my crowning achievements.” 

And then Zola was running out the door. 

Before she could even process what the Nazi scientist had said or what it could mean, Steve jogged into the room and headed straight for Bucky’s side. 

“Sergeant. 32557..” Bucky babbled.

“Bucky?” Steve began un-strapping him from the chair. “Oh my God.”

And just like that the spell was broken. Bucky’s voice was hoarse as he responded, “Is that…” 

Darcy tried very hard not to be jealous about how easily Bucky seemed to snap out of his daze when Steve said his name. After all it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to rouse him. But it would seem only the sound of his best friend’s voice was the equivalent of true love’s fucking kiss.

“It’s me. It’s Steve.” 

Sounding like he was coming off a bad acid trip Bucky said, “Steve?” 

In response Steve pulled Bucky forward forcing him to sit up before pulling the man to his feet completely. “Come on.” 

“Steve.” Bucky repeated with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Steve patted him on the shoulder declaring, “I thought you were dead.”

Not missing a beat Bucky fired back, “I thought you were smaller.” 

Feeling this was her moment Darcy cleared her throat loudly and caught the men’s attention. “And I thought the half naked and impaled chick would be more of a priority.”

“Darcy!” Bucky lurched toward her but stumbled on his unsteady legs. Steve was quick to catch him and help him limp over to her. 

“I’m sorry ma’am I didn’t see you.” Steve said as his eyes narrowed on the rods embedded in her flesh. He let Bucky half collapse on her slab before squatting down and working the metal nut off the rod holding her in place. 

“God Dollface, look at what he did to you.” Bucky sounded so remorseful it touched something deep in her heart.

“I’m fine.” She lied. 

“You’re impaled on a table!” Bucky practically shouted. He reached out and grabbed her hand, probably to hold it to try to bring her comfort, but the action caused pain to radiate up and down her arm. Or it could have been Steve trying to push one of the rods up from underneath.

“Hssss.” She hissed in pain.

“Stop!” Bucky commanded, “You’re hurting her.” 

Steve peeked over the top of the bed and she met his eyes. She saw the grim reality of her situation reflected back at her. She gestured to the rod with her chin, “It’ll be easier for you to push down than up.” 

“No!” Bucky said, “We need a doctor or some kind of tool--”

“No time.” Steve informed him as he stood and put his hands on the top of the rod in her right shoulder. He hesitated only a second, his eyes flickered to hers and she gave him a nod, and then he pushed down. 

“AH!” 

The clang of metal as the rod hit the floor was at that moment the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Quickly Steve repeated the process on the other side. And she was free. 

“Take it easy.” Bucky advised.

She rolled her eyes at him and pulled the IV line out of her arm, as neither man seemed to think that stopping the blue shit flowing into her veins was a priority. Without assistance she hopped off the table and paused taking stock of how she felt. 

“Miss?” Steve asked, his hand hovering at her lower back like he expected her to faint. 

And she should be ready to faint. She should feel as shitty as Bucky looked, or worse, but she didn’t. There was intense pain in her shoulders where the rods had been run through her body, and up and down her arms but beyond that she felt…fine. Hungry, tired, thirsty, and scared out of her mind. But fine. 

Which was so fucking weird. 

“I’m good.” She said and started heading for the door as if to prove her point. Dismissively she ordered, “Help Bucky. He was tortured way worse than I was.” 

“What?!” Bucky exclaimed, “Dollface, get back here! You—you probably have internal injuries. You need to take it easy!” 

“Probably!” She called to him as she entered the hallway. She stopped immediately and waited as she had no idea where to go. Steve came up behind her half carrying Bucky and she smiled at them manically. “But I’m running on fumes and adrenaline boys, so let’s take advantage while we can. Hmm?” 

Steve warmly he chided his friend, “Only you could get taken prisoner and come out with a pretty dame on your arm.” 

“Darce,” Bucky said as Steve took lead and Darcy fell into step behind the pair. “How did you know about him? How did…?” He stopped and turned to look at Steve, “What happened to you?” 

“I joined the army.” Steve told him flippantly making Darcy snort. 

“Did it hurt?” Bucky asked as he and Steve separated. 

“A little.” Steve admitted.

Darcy came up to Bucky’s side as he staggered before getting his legs under control. He gave her a look that said, ‘don’t you fucking dare offer to help me walk’. She just smiled at him glad he was back to his old self, for the most part. 

“Is it permanent?” Bucky asked while staring at her. She wasn’t sure who he was asking so she answered at the same time Steve did. 

“So far.”  
“Yes.”  
Bucky and she exchanged a knowing look, but it was brief. He had his proof now. She’d predicted the future and it came true. He had to believe her now. And knowing that he believed her made her feel just…giddy. 

“Miss, you know the way out of here?” Steve asked her not slowing down or looking at her over his shoulder as they passed a stairway and continued along the corridor.

“If I did, do you think I’d be following you?” She said without bite. “I say we get outside and work it out from there.” 

“That’s not a bad plan, but I’m not exactly sure--” Steve led them into a dead end. He sighed then muttered under his breath, “Okay, maybe we should have taken those stairs.”  
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They finally found their way back to the manufacturing floor but the place was on fire and explosions were going off destroying the machinery. 

“He’s burning the fucking evidence.” She said darkly as she realized the chaos all around them wasn’t the consequences of an epic jail break. Steve raised his shield to protect from a particularly close blast and Darcy had no qualms about getting close to the giant man and using his body as a shield of her own. 

“Red Skull.” Steve said like it was both a question and the answer as they moved to the stairs. 

“No shit.” She muttered as she pushed Bucky up the metal scaffolding ahead of her. 

“I can walk on my own ya know.” Bucky barked at her as she jogged up the stairs weirdly not even winded.

“Maybe I was just trying to squeeze your butt?” She quipped with a wink as she overtook him and ran to the gangplank.

“Ah Buck, who is she exactly?” Steve asked sounding adorably confused, but before she could respond another voice called out, “Captain America!”

Across from them Schmidt and Zola stood in between them and the exit. “How exiting!” The Hydra leader said mockingly, “I’m a great fan of your films.”

Schmidt walked towards them leisurely like the building wasn’t on fire and Steve moved forward to meet him. “So Dr. Erskine managed it after all.” Schmidt continued, “Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive.” 

Steve punched him in the face and reflexively Darcy called out, “Woo! Go Steve! Kick him in the balls!” 

Schmidt and Steve paused to look at her. She smiled at them toothily, “Nobody knows how he dies. But, he’s smaller than you Steve, so if you pick him up and throw him over the edge into the fire,” She lowered her voice in mock whisper, “Then we’ll know.” 

She shouldn’t have said anything. She was a distraction, one Schmidt took advantage of. He punched Steve in the head causing his face to bang into the railing and his nose to start gushing blood. However when he went to punch him again Steve was ready and blocked the hit with his shield.

“Whoops.” Darcy mumbled under her breath. When Bucky moved forward as if to join in the fray she grabbed his arm and held him back.

“Let go!” He demanded, but she didn’t. Instead she pointed at Zola. The scientist pulled a leaver and the catwalk Steve and Schmidt were standing on started to retract separating the men. 

“No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!” Schmidt said. Then with a dramatic flourish he pulled the skin off his face revealing what was underneath the façade. A deformed Red Skull. 

And suddenly the moniker made so much more sense. 

Bucky gave her a look, “Did you know that would happen?” 

Letting go of his arm she muttered, “Dude I’m not even sure what’s happening right now and I’m living it.” Then she raised her voice so the Nazi could hear her clearly. “Ew. Gross. You look like an angry testical that’s infected with like..malaria or something!” 

Bucky and Steve scoffed at her comparison but her words seemed to enrage Schmidt. “You sniveling wench! I am your superior! I have left humanity behind and ascended beyond it!” He directed his next words at Steve, “You pretend to be a simple soldier, but you know the truth. You should embrace what you have become proudly and without fear.”

“Then how come you’re running?” Steve questioned as Schmidt and Zola continued their escape by entering the elevator. 

“You’re never going to get pussy you don’t have to pay for looking like that you evil Nazi shitbag!” She yelled just before the door closed on the duo.

With a big proud smile on her face she looked over at Bucky and Steve seeking approval for her awesome insulting skills, but found the pair gob smacked. “What?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a dame use such foul language in my life.” Steve remarked sounding all at once impressed and horrified. 

“Yeah well, best get used to it because I don’t fucking pull verbal punches for anyone.” 

“C’mon.” Bucky grabbed her arm and started her towards the stairs, “Let’s go. Up.” 

They reached the top of the stairs within seconds, beneath the catwalk everything was on fire and they really had no other options. The only way out was to cross a thin gantry that looked rickety as shit. “Fuck no.”

Steve patted her on the back, “Let’s go. One at a time.” 

Both men stared at her expectantly. “I’m not going first, Bucky is.” She informed them.

“No, Darce--” Bucky tried to protest but she just grabbed his arm and used all her strength and the element of surprise to push/pull him forward, the move caused such pain to radiate out from her wounds that she instantly regretted it. Also, it didn’t even turn out like she intended.

Bucky slammed into the railing which made him forcefully bent at the waist and topple head over heels over the railing. He managed to hang out with one hand. 

“SHIT!” She exclaimed as she and Steve rushed to help Bucky find his footing on the metal walkway.

“Whatta ya tryin’ ta kill me?!” Bucky demanded when they were once again eye to eye. “You’re the civilian here, you should go first.”

She argued back, “Exactly! I’m a stupid civilian. You’re more important, _you_ should go--.” 

“We don’t have time for this.” Steve interrupted.

“We’ll make time!” Bucky shouted back as another explosion sounded from down blow.

When he made to lift his leg back over the railing, she grabbed him by the collar and pulled his face to hers. She kissed him hard at first, but then it softened. There were so many reasons she was putting his life before her own. Though, the most important one was she just wanted him to live. Because she liked him. 

As their lips parted she grabbed his leg and put it back on the right side of the divider. He looked stunned, but his eyes quickly hardened. She touched his cheek gently with one hand and spoke in a soft voice, “Just fucking go!” 

“You follow right behind me.” He said, he probably meant for it to sound like an order, but it came off like a plea. He darted forward for one more kiss and then he did what she wanted, he turned and started walking away from her.

As he got further away from them Steve quietly said, “Thank you.” 

“I’m Darcy.” She introduced herself offering up a hand, but her eyes remained on Bucky. 

“Steve.” His hand was warm and sweaty and so much bigger than her own and he didn’t so much shake hers in greeting as hold on to it as they watched his best friend make the treacherous journey to safety. 

With bated breath they watched. Halfway through the gantry broke and fell down into the fire below, Darcy let out a scream but Bucky made a mad dash and a desperate leap, and made it safely to the other side. 

“Holy shit.” She sighed in relief. 

Bucky stared at them from across the impossible divide, shocked. “Gotta be a rope or something!”

They all knew there was no time to get a rope. 

“Just go!” Steve called out to him, “Get out of here!”

“NO!” Bucky said, “Not without you!” His eyes shifted over to her. “Both of you.” 

“Hell.” Steve acted quickly, bending the metal railing out of his way. 

Watching him she felt like her fate was sealed and she accepted it with a calm she didn’t expect. She offered words of reassurance to Steve as he looked at the chasm he had to cross with trepidation written across his face. “Don’t be afraid, you’ll make it.” 

Steve looked horrified by her words. “What do you mean _I’ll_ make it. What about you?” 

Lying to him in that moment was as easy as breathing. “I’ll find another way.” 

She turned to head back to the stairs, committing to the ruse in the hopes that she wouldn’t get Captain America and Bucky Barnes killed by virtue of their concern for her. She knew there was no escape. She would die there, hopefully alone. Burning to death wasn’t exactly ideal, but she figured if she pitched herself over the side head first she could smash her skull in and not have to-- 

“No,” Steve grabbed her wrist before she could take more than three steps. He twisted his body and pulled her arms around his neck, hitching her up onto his back he grabbed her legs and encouraged her to wrap them around his stomach. “We do this together.” 

“No!” She protested worried that the added weight would his downfall. She knew that in the past, in this situation, Steve made it out alive. There was no guarantee he would do so with her on his back. 

She couldn’t be the reason Steve Rogers died before he was supposed to.

As he moved to the back of the walkway to give them more of a running start, she struggled. “Let me down!” She slapped at his back, “It’ll kill you! I can’t be the one who kills you! You’re Captain America!” 

“Hey!” He said in sharp commanding tone. “Close your eyes. Hold on tight.” 

“We won’t make it.” She told him trying to convince him to let her to go. To leave her behind. To live.

“We’ll both make it.” He assured her. And then he started running. 

She took half of his advice. She held on tight but didn’t close her eyes. An explosion erupted underneath them when they were in the air obscuring their vision of the other side. Steve slammed into the edge of the walkway unexpectedly and _hard_. “Ooof.”

Despite her secure hold, her arms unwrapped from his neck and she fell backward. Staring down into the fire, holding onto Steve with only the power of her legs, she couldn’t help but scream in terror. “AAAAH!”

“I’ve gotcha!” Bucky called as he reached down to her, “Grab my hand Darce!” 

She didn’t think she had the core strength required to sit up and reach his hand, but somehow she managed. With Bucky’s help she was once again right side up and she and Steve crawled onto solid ground.

“You okay?” Bucky asked as he panted.

Darcy, who had done nothing to exert herself turned to look at Steve. “He’s the one who did all the work.” 

Steve smiled at her, weary but victorious. “Let’s get out of here.”  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you like to see a Bucky POV or Steve POV next?  
> I'm thinking of making the whole walk home with the 107th it's own chapter, but might include her meeting Peggy Carter and Col Phillips. So, we will see.


	5. Forked Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of chapter last week, had to get my car inspected which was a 2 hour wait, only to find my front tires were like...rotting? IDK so then I had another hour wait to fix tires. Then another 2 hour wait to get inspected only to find out they stopped doing inspections at 1pm.  
> For the record, I didn't curse anyone out.  
> But I do have to go get my car inspected tomorrow, because I was like, nah I'm writing on Saturday and not putting on pants because IDC if real life is filled with things that must be done. I need to sit and do what I want for one day a week.

Chapter 5 – Forked Road

Bucky was shocked by the chaotic scene once they got out of the building. The prisoners had taken out the bulk of Hydra’s forces, stolen weapons, and were making a grand escape leaving behind mayhem and destruction. Only the most devout and desperate of Hydra soldiers remained providing opposition. It was an impressive sight to behold but more than that it felt like well earned revenge. “Wow.”

“Yeah wow.” Darcy commented, her eyes following a handful of soldiers firing weapons out the back of a truck, killing the Hydra soldiers that were in pursuit. 

“C’mon.” Steve was all business. “Follow me.” 

He led them through the mayhem with a determined expression; it was one Bucky had seen a million times on his face, usually when taking on a bully about three times his size. He found it a bit unsettling as he fell into step behind Darcy. The familiarity of the face and his friend’s demeanor just didn’t match up with the body he was following. Steve had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. And that change, all exterior, was almost unbelievable to behold. 

Feeling out of his depth was becoming a familiar sensation. He found his eyes drifting down to Darcy’s backside as they passed a dead Hydra soldier and she stopped to pick up a gun. He wondered how she _really_ knew Steve was coming for them and about his dramatic physical transformation. She was mostly likely a spy, but he suspected she was either very good at her job or very bad considering where they had met. 

He watched in amusement as she mimed firing the weapon at the wall behind them, quietly muttered to herself, “Pew, pew, pew.”

Bucky then remembered what she had said about her civilian status, he had a feeling her confessions regarding combat skills were very, very, true. “Hey Dollface, you know how to use that?” 

“Well, no.” She admitted as she held the weapon to her chest protectively. “But I want a souvenir.” 

He let out a barking laugh as he moved forward and took the dangerous weapon from her unresisting hands. She pouted petulantly but it was all for show. “Wah.” She said with no inflection. 

He offered a distracted sounding consolation as he examined the weapon. “How about we find you one that won’t damage that pretty face of yours?”

“Like a knife!” She said enthusiastically miming stabbing someone. “That would be a totally awesome souvenir. Extra points if we find one that’s engraved so it’s super authentic and unique.” 

He made a noise of acknowledgement but he wasn’t really listening to her. It was the first time he’d gotten his hands on the advanced weaponry Hydra had been using against them and it was a real thing of beauty. 

They’d learned through various channels that Zola had developed the weapon based on a special battery; it was the battery component which made it fire blue energy pulses powerful enough to vaporize humans. They found it was not as effective against other materials, but it could still blast a hole in a brick wall in a barrage of shots. He ran his hands over the silvery barrel of the gun, his fingers itching to know all the weapons secrets so he could---Something went whizzing past his head and instinctively he ducked down into a crouch taking cover behind a turned over vehicle. 

In front of him Steve had his shield raised blocking the bullets from hitting him and Darcy. Instead of ducking for cover she had moved closer to the larger man and was using him as a human shield. 

“Holy shit! Someone’s shooting at us!” Darcy screeched as she gripped the back of Steve’s jacket tightly. 

“What’d you expect?” He shouted at her, as he looked around the side of the car trying to find out where the shots were coming from. He couldn’t see exactly where the shooter was but they were down low. He glanced over at Darcy wondering why she hadn’t moved to seek cover over near him and found her eyes were wide with terror. Her body was stiff. She was breathing quickly. It was written all over her, she was panicking. 

His heart went out to her, but seriously? She couldn’t have picked a worse time to react like a normal dame. 

Trying to simultaneously line up a clear shot at their attacker while remaining behind cover he tried to prompt Darcy into action, calling to her, “Darcy, come here and get down!” 

Steve peeked at her over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Bucky understood why, since Steve was still being fired upon and Darcy was right behind him his friend couldn’t move without leaving Darcy wide open. She’d have to duck for cover before Steve could. 

Bucky tried pulling on her leg and calling to her again, but she shook her head and ignored him, hiding her face in the middle of Steve’s back. He clenched his jaw and pushed down the small flare of jealousy and focused on finding where the shots were coming from. The flash from a muzzle finally caught his eye. The Squid was on his belly and firing up at them from in between the crack of two metal barrels. The angle he was firing from was shit, which was probably why Steve and Darcy weren’t dead yet, the guy couldn’t adjust so he just kept shooting hitting Steve’s shield dead on. 

“Gotcha.” Bucky muttered as he pulled the trigger on his own weapon. He wasn’t ready for the kickback and let out a quiet ‘shit’ as the thing slammed into his shoulder nearly dislocating it. 

Blue energy shot out of the end of his gun, but it wasn’t precise like the sniper guns he was used to. The energy pouring out of the weapon was wild and alive and just barely controllable. It took everything he had not to drop the thing as the handle vibrated and the metal began to heat up. Despite not hitting his intended target he did make contact, the suppressive fire did what he needed and the exploding barrel gave Steve a break from the barrage of bullets he was facing. 

Roughly Steve put his hand on Darcy’s shoulder and shouted, “Get down!” as he shoved her at the ground and into the turned over car Bucky was hiding behind. 

“Ah!” She wacked her head on the muffler and hissed in pain as Steve crouched down next to them, finally allowing Bucky to take his finger off the trigger. 

“What was that?” Steve questioned angrily. Darcy visibly flinched back, her head making contact with something metal causing her to wince. 

And while Bucky empathized with his friend he bit his tongue so he wouldn’t make a similar demand of her because Darcy looked shaken. More so than he can remember her ever looking, she was looking down at the ground, avoiding eye contact, trembling all over. And whispering to herself ‘no, no, no, no’. 

He wondered idly if it was the first time anyone had ever shot at her. It seemed like it might be. And while he had sympathy for the distress she was in he couldn’t relate to it all. It felt like he’d been fighting for so long…he couldn’t even remember the horror he’d felt when he got his first taste of war.

He softened his voice hoping a different approach would get her to respond. “Darcy? Dollface, you alright?”

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, he noted she was clutching her injured shoulder. Pain played across her features when she looked up at them, her eyes shifted between the two of them before settling on Steve. “I’m sorry.” 

Bucky glared at Steve, he could see now that Darcy wasn’t just traumatized mentally or emotionally, she was reeling from physical pain as well. Maybe the adrenaline had helped block some of it out, but looking at her face, reading her body language, she looked like she was in agony now. And Steve had grabbed her shoulder and shoved her into the car! His friend didn’t need Bucky’s condemning gaze though. 

“I’m sorry I froze, I just--” She flinched as the sound of gunfire started up in their direction again. The sound of metal hitting metal was familiar to him, but he could see how it put her on edge.

On Steve’s face he could see his friend berating himself for not taking into account her injuries when he’d shoved her and her fragile mental state when he expected her to know how to handle herself in a fire fight. Darcy might have projected toughness thus far but Bucky knew it was only a matter of time before she broke down; she was a woman and didn’t belong in the middle of a war. 

She’d been through hell enough. His only objective now was to get her to safety. And he knew Steve well enough to know his friend felt the same way. He imagined the delusions she’d come up with were failing her now. Now that they were out of the facility and back in the thick of it reality was setting in. 

As Steve popped up out of hiding, took aim with his pistol and shot the man who’d been firing on them, killing him dead, he could see the appeal of what she’d done. Playing pretend at being from the future and knowing aliens and shit, all that helped distance her from what was really happening to her at Zola’s hands. Every fantastical story she told kept her far from the reality of their situation and how dire it was. And even though he was grateful for her senses returning to her, it hurt him to see her letting go of those protective delusions. 

She babbled to herself, clutching her wound protectively. “Evil robots? No sweat. Alien invasions? Literal déjà vu. Evil Nazi mad scientists? Honestly surprised I didn’t run into one sooner. How can I handle all that totally scary shit so easily and then---regular _people_ with _regular guns_? I fucking terrified. It’s so real. Too real. I’m not—I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re risking your life for me and you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t do that. I’m not worth that.” 

“Ma’am,” Steve crouched back down with them and put his hand on her elbow, “You have nothing to apologize for. And I’m sorry for being rough with you. I just didn’t expect—it doesn’t matter. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.” 

“Of course you’re going to get out of here alive, you’re Captain America. And this is your big hero moment.” She told him with worried eyes, “But I’m not supposed to be here. And I’m not you. And if that happens again, if I freeze or trip or whatever, you need to leave me. If I die now, it’ll probably like, close a fucking time loop or whatever.”

“I’m not going to leave you behind.” Steve insisted. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

“There are no guarantees when it comes to my safety, Steve.” She looked like the high spirited energy which had been fueling her throughout their escape thus far was finally flagging. 

The fact that she was asking them to leave her behind baffled him. He thought she was a fighter. And he wanted her to fight. To live. He liked her. And he knew he was compromised by his feelings for her, but he didn’t care. He’d had fleeting thoughts about her true identity and loyalties, but he thought they were ultimately on the same side against Hydra so the details didn’t matter. But maybe they did? 

He didn’t know what would happen when they got her back to base, when he found out which country she worked for and what her objective was all along. And that reminded him that he didn’t really know her. Not like he knew Steve. 

Steve who could have been killed due to her incompetence. 

“I guarantee it.” Bucky said, the words jumping out of his throat without checking with his brain first. Her eyes flickered back to him and he reached out to gently run the back of his fingers over her soft cheek. “I guarantee your safety.”

He shouldn’t be making promises he couldn’t keep, but there was something about her that just compelled him to act against his better judgment. It was a long quiet moment of staring into each other’s eyes before the right side of her mouth lifted briefly and she ducked her head saying, “You’re a very pretty liar Sergeant Barnes.” 

“Ahem.” Steve cleared his throat, helpfully transitioning out of the intimate moment and back to reality. Having shaken off his apologetic look he now spoke in a commanding tone as he stared down the two of them. “Listen. Just because we’ve got Hydra on the run now doesn’t mean we can let our guard down. You need to stay alert. I don’t want to lose either of you in the crossfire.” 

Bucky smiled, leader was a good look on Steve. He nodded at his friend in acknowledgment of his authority and Steve nodded back. They really didn’t need to say anything else. Where Steve went, Bucky would follow. Just like always. 

When Steve turned to Darcy his look of gratitude transformed into a downward pout of irritation. She smiled at him weakly and gave him a half hearted salute, mockingly replying, “Aye aye Cap’n tightpants.” 

“I’m serious ma’am.” Steve said sounding exasperated. He didn’t appreciate her humor, but Bucky did. In his opinion jokes meant she was in the right headspace to make it out alive. Meant she wasn’t done fighting. Wasn’t going to freeze up again. 

She mirrored Steve’s expression, furrowing her brow and clenching her jaw. “What makes you think I’m not taking all this seriously?” 

The one eyebrow raise from Steve really said it all.  
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They made it to the road safely and as far as they could tell they’d left no Hydra personnel alive on their way out. And despite Darcy insisting they needed to stop and find a tree that looked like a dog, which is where she claimed to have hidden her belongings, the kept following the road until they found the other freed prisoners. 

The men were congregating around one of the trucks they’d stolen. Bucky found Dugan in the crowd quickly, his distinctive bowler hat and loud mouth made it easy. 

“I’m tellin’ ya that ain’t the right way!” Dugan shouted at Dernier. It was then that Bucky realized they’d stopped at a fork in the road. And suddenly the men idling a half a mile away from their former prison made a little more sense. 

“Vous Americain arrogant,nous devons partir à gauche!” Dernier yelled back at the taller man, wildly waving a torn map.

“Hey!” Steve called out to the men as they made their approach. “Why aren’t we moving?” 

“Dieu merci.” Dernier cried out gesturing to the heavens. 

Dugan smiled at them jovially and jogged over to meet them a little ways away from the large group. “Kid, Sarge, Cap! You made it.” 

Morita was close on his heels, but behind him he saw Gabe and Falsworth stopping the rest of the men from doing the same. Morita quickly and quietly explained what was going on. “Dugan and Frenchie are fighting about the route we should take. Map caught on fire on the way out and half the guys are with Dugan and the other half don’t want to walk all night in the wrong direction only to have to turn around and—so, no one wants to move out until things are settled and we have our heading.” 

His eyes flickered over to Darcy and he patted her on the shoulder, she winced but Morita didn’t catch it. “Thought you were a goner for sure, glad you didn’t die.” 

“Nope,” She replied weakly, “Not yet.” 

As Dugan began lecturing Steve on how he knew they had to take the right road, Darcy took a couple steps away from them and turned to look at the smoke rising up from the still burning Hydra facility. Bucky shadowed her steps. “What are you thinking?”

She didn’t look away from the sky as she answered, “I’m thinking that on our way out nothing looked familiar so I think I came in on the other side, which means my stuff is twice as far away as I thought.” 

“You wanna go back in there?” Morita questioned. Beyond the three of them Dugan and Steve were walking back to the others, Steve assuring everyone he knew the way back to camp. For some reason the sound of the men getting ready to move out inspired the mental image of an hourglass being turned over. 

“I don’t think I’ll have to go through the facility to get my stuff back, I can just go around.” Darcy said.

“You can’t be serious.” Morita said, stealing the words from his lips. 

“I hid my stuff well, by a tree that looks like a dog with its head tilted like this,” She tilted her head and affected a puppy dog look, bringing her hands up to act like paws. It was adorable and he was compelled to steal a kiss but that just pissed him off because what she was saying was crazy. When she put her hands down and righted her head to shrug nonchalantly he felt his blood begin to boil. “It shouldn’t be that hard to find.” 

“You’re not going anywhere.” Bucky warned in a gravelly voice. He couldn’t believe she was talking nonsense again. Going back to the place they just escaped? It was more than insane. It was stupid. 

Behind them he could hear Steve and Dugan approaching, but he only had eyes for Darcy. She puffed up her chest and spoke in a challenging tone, “Funny. I don’t remember asking for permission.” 

Tactlessly inserting himself into the conversation Dugan asked, “Hey now, where’d my sweater go kid?”

Darcy looked down at herself as if the borrowed sweater had just briefly turned invisible. Her voice was tired as she answered, “Zola cut it off me before he shish kabobbed me to the table.”

Honestly Darcy was so confident walking around in just her weird pants and brassiere that it had slipped his mind that a woman walking around in her underwear was usually frowned upon. However now that attention had been brought to her half naked state of dress it seemed scandalous once again. Also dangerous considering how cold and wintery the night was, among other reasons. 

“Oh! Um.” Steve stumbled over his words and let his shield drop to the ground with a thud as he hurried to take off his jacket. “Here, I’m sorry ma’am I should have offered earlier, but um I guess we got caught up in the uh--”

“Excitement?” She finished for him as she took the jacket with an amused expression.

Steve blushed and swallowed thickly before responding lamely, “You must be cold.”

“Thanks Cap.” She responded with laughing eyes. She sniffed the collar and made a face of disgust, but then smiled brightly declaring, “Hell of a unique and authentic souvenir.” 

“My pleasure—I mean, it’s not my—uh. You’re welcome ma’am.” 

“Darcy.” She insisted. “Stop it with the fucking ma’am shit. You speaking so formally makes me feel like an underpaid dominatrix and it makes me want to spank you for insubordination.”

“Darcy.” Steve croaked his cheeks growing pinker. “Got it.” 

Dum Dum let out a gruff laugh and slapped Steve on the back as they all watched Darcy shrug into the oversized outerwear. “Well that’s fair I suppose,” Dugan said, “Courage, brains, and muscle but the guy can’t talk to a pretty dame for shit without getting tongue tied.” 

Bucky silently cursed himself for not noticing Darcy’s goose bump covered flesh. He’d missed the opportunity to come to her clothing related rescue once again. With a clenched jaw he watched as Morita helped her fold up the sleeves so her hands were only slight overshadowed by the thick leather instead of comically so. 

A shrill whistle brought their attention back to Dernier and the men. He yelled something to them in French and then said, “Allons-y! What are you waiting for huh? Hydra to rally and give us the chase?”

“He’s right. We need to leave.” Steve said once again assuming command. He pointed at Darcy, “You’re injured and look dead on your feet. I told them to make room for you up front in the truck. The rest of us are going to have to hoof it from here boys, so--”

“No.” Darcy interrupted.

He couldn’t help the exasperation in his voice when he exploded shouting at her, “Whatta ya mean ‘no’?!”

In contrast Dugan’s voice was warm and full of concern as he addressed her calmly. “Honey, you don’t got nothing to prove to us. Take the free ride, god knows after the hell you’ve been through you deserve it.” 

“But I do.” She insisted, she blinked owlishly.

“What?” Steve asked as confused as the rest of them.

“Have something to prove.” She explained, “I need to prove that I’m from the future and I was vacationing on an alien planet.”

“Not this again.” Bucky mumbled under his breath as Steve’s eyes widened and in a pitched voice he asked, “What?!”

Darcy focused on Bucky’s response though. Poking him in the arm she demanded, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t want to fight with her about this persistent delusion she’d concocted. He’d thought she’d finally gotten her head on straight before, but apparently he was wrong. He knew what would happen if he pushed her about her story and its validity, so instead he tried to change the subject. “Dollface, you need rest. You should just get on the truck now and we’ll deal with all this other stuff after we get out of enemy territory.” 

“But my stuff is right here, in the enemy territory. If I go now I’ll have to double back.” 

“No.” He tried to shut her down, stepping closer her looked down into her eyes trying to convey that what he was saying was for her own good. “You need to get on the truck and that’s final.” 

Darcy was obviously not in the right mind to be making her own decisions. He slipped his arm around her back and attempted to guide her to safety with a gentle hand. She was grievously injured and now that the adrenaline had worn off she looked ready to pass out at any minute. “C’mon I’ll help you.” 

Darcy turned on her heel not allowing herself to be pushed forward. “Don’t fucking—don’t you get that this is important?”

“I’m sure you think it is.” He said trying to keep his voice calm, “But you need to get on the truck now.” 

“I need to go get my stuff so your stupid bosses don’t think I’m Looney Toons and try to ‘fix’ me with some more fun electroshock therapy! Or worse, think I’m part of Hydra and throw me in a fucking hole to rot and die!”

“We wouldn’t let that happen to you.” Dugan said sounding reassuring. “We’ll vouch for you.” 

Darcy turned on him with a growl, “You’re just a solider! You have no power when it comes to the upper managerial decisions of the US government!” She took a step away from them and put her hands around herself, she looked small and vulnerable and he wanted to protect her, but he couldn’t help but wonder if she was playing them all. With big beautiful blue eyes she stared at them imploring, “Don’t you get it? I’m from the future. So far in the future, it might as well be another planet, which is another wrinkle in my story, but I digress. Seriously, I don’t even know who the president is. I don’t know how to dress or speak or blend in. And I…I don’t have the kind of espionage skill it would take to pretend that I’m not who I say I am.”

“Darcy, we believe you. We do.” Dugan said and Morita nodded agreeing. 

Steve turned to the pair of them, “You do?” 

“She predicted you would come to our rescue.” Morita said with a head tilt. “And she knew you were Sarge’s buddy and about you being, uh, bigger and taller than the last time he saw you.” 

Steve’s eyebrows rose in intrigue. “She did?” He turned to her asked, “You did?”

In response she said a name Bucky didn’t recognize but it seemed like Steve did. “Peggy Carter. You like her. You have warm and squishy feeling for her in your heart. And bonus she’s a badass who along with Howard Stark helped you pull off this grand rescue which was done sneakily and unsanctioned by the army who would’ve left us to die had you all not interfered.” 

“I...” He could see it on Steve’s face. Darcy had once again hit the truth dead on. How she did it, Bucky didn’t know, but he knew she wasn’t a time traveler. It was impossible. And so what was he to think of her and how she got this information? 

She focused on him again and he stood a little straighter under her gaze. He expected ire and wrath, but she spoke with a voice filled with sorrow. “Bucky, you don’t believe me. And—that’s okay. It’s reasonable. Logical. It’s smart of you not to believe me. But I’m not going to lie, it hurts. Because I am telling the truth.” 

“Darcy--” She held up a hand stopping his words and he tried not to feel ashamed of himself. 

“I predicted the future and somehow you’ve rationalized it.” She said knowingly, “But now I need you to respect me. Respect what I’m going to do, whether you like it or not.” 

“You’re getting on that truck.” He insisted, a plea in his voice. 

“The truth is the only thing that will protect me in your world. In this time.” She took a step away from him. “I need my bag. And I’m going to go get it.” 

“I’ll come with you.” Dugan offered. And then a second later Morita piped up, “Me too.” 

“No!” Bucky denied, “No, Darcy’s getting on the truck. Now!” Angry and confused and sad and jealous, Bucky stalked forward with the intention of picking Darcy up and throwing her over his shoulder to force her into the safety of the armored truck whether _she_ liked it or not—“Buck.” Steve’s hand on his shoulder was strong and it forced him to stop in his tracks. “The lady has made her decision.” 

“You’ll die out there.” He said directing his words at Darcy, “I can’t protect you if I’m not with you.” 

“Then come with me.” She said like it was an easy answer. Like she wasn’t asking him to accompany her on a wild goose chase. Or worse, follow her straight into a trap. 

“Time travel is impossible.” He responded.

The light in her eyes shined brighter as she challenged him, “And you’re the expert on what is and isn’t possible?”

“There is no such thing as aliens.” He insisted. Steve, who still had a hand on his shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You get your arm cut off and your mind wiped and for 70 years Hydra uses you to assassinate people.” Her words were like a punch in the gut and his whole body screamed at him to shout her down and make her tell the truth, admit she was delusional and this was all just a plot to use them for information or access. 

“And in some truly horrible cases,” She added, “they have you assassinate your former friends and allies.” The hand on his shoulder tightened. “If I get my proof, I can maybe change your fate…change everything, for the better.”

“You’re lying. This is a trick.” He whispered. “You are Hydra.” He didn’t believe that, he just wanted to hurt her.

“I forgive you for not believing in me.” She turned her head and touched her cheek, he wondered if she was wiping away a tear. 

He hadn’t meant to make her cry. But there was satisfaction in the thought.

It was then that Dugan stuck up for her. “Sarge, I don’t think the kid’s Hydra. And I for one can’t deny what’s right in front of me.” 

“Her stories so crazy, it has to be true.” Morita added. “And if all we have to do is take a quick detour and find a bag to prove it, why not? If she’s nuts we lose half a day walking around for no reason. No big loss.” 

It was actually a very sound and logical argument. And he couldn’t think of anything to counter it that didn’t cast Darcy as a deceptive and conniving Hydra operative, which in his heart he didn’t actually believe she was. He watched as the pair of soldiers moved to align themselves with Darcy. She shot them grateful smiles and then her gaze locked back on him. 

“I don’t believe my timeline exists anymore and since I haven’t faded away into nothingness I think I can change things and not destroy the universe. And if this is my new permanent world, there is a lot of heinous evil fucked up shit that I want to prevent from happening. But I can’t do that if no one believes me. Hence, the importance of my bag.”

“What do you mean you don’t think your timeline exists anymore?” Steve asked. He’d always devoured all the science fiction books he got his hands on when they were kids. No doubt his wheels were turning with all the big cosmic implications of Darcy’s claim. 

“I’ve said too much and changed too much. And…Zola has my smartwatch, I knew I was possibly walking into Hydra’s evil clutches when I first got here, hence me hiding my bag, but I didn’t know I was 70 years in the past. It didn’t even occur to me to take it off.” She touched her right wrist with sorrow in her eyes. “It’s pink and small and innocuous but it could mean Hydra winning the war due to my interference. And I can’t have that on my conscious.” 

“What’s a smartwatch?” Dugan asked. 

“As far as you’d understand? A piece of technology that can be reverse engineered and give Hydra yet another impossible advantage, tipping the scales of war in evil’s favor for decades to come.” 

“How ominous and poetic.” Bucky retorted with bite. 

“Letting the watch fall into evil hands was a mistake. My mistake. And if I have any chance of fixing it, I’m going to need people to believe me. And if you--Bucky if I couldn’t get you of all people to believe me with just my words then--” The honking of a horn interrupted Darcy’s sentence and made her jump. Dugan put a hand on her back and Bucky felt a stab of anger.

“Fine.” He said through clenched teeth. “Go.” 

“Eh! Quel est le problem?” Dernier shouted at them, “Time to go!”

Bucky turned his back on Darcy, Dugan, and Morita and started walking towards the truck. He heard Steve giving them directions but he blocked it out. His head was a mess and his heart was even worse. 

He was angry he got so angry and defensive. But also angry that Darcy was clinging so tightly to her delusions. He thought she was stronger than that and he was disappointed she’d chosen to hide from the truth. 

He was sad he made her cry and let her down by not believing in her; he so much wanted her to like him as much as he (against his better judgment) liked her. 

He felt betrayed by Dugan and Morita but also grateful she wouldn’t be going out on her own. He wanted to be the one by her side and the one who believed in her, but what she was asking was for him to ignore logic and reason and everything he knew to be true. 

His feelings were overwhelming and in conflict with each other. But, with every step he took away from her one question echoed in his mind. _Why didn’t I just go with her?_  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope y'all understand how from Bucky's POV the conflict happened and how not from a stupid place or place of anger or anything it originates. It's a difference of opinions and beliefs. And it's not like a super irrevocable fight thing. Let me know if you are feeling the Bucky/Darcy vibes. Cause I'm about to add some more drama to this thing and I am debating on who else is going to be crushing on Darcy. I have a couple ideas like Dugan, (but maybe they father/daughter relationship vibe) or Steve (but maybe Peggy really floats her boat and then 3 some, but probably not that cause drama of best friend heartache/betrayal/gasp! would probably cause enough drama) or Howard (proto-Tony? yes please very yum loved actor on preacher but maybe I see him more as Jesse from that show and I'm not doing a crossover from Preacher so maybe not) or maybe someone really out of left field like Jack Thompson from Agent Carter show. 
> 
> So like I said, I am debating on what's next and still in the sorting it out in my head stage.
> 
> Anywhoo. I'm rambling now. So, bye.


	6. Proof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the 2x week wait again. Adult Halloween, child Halloween, dying my hair red to be Ariel, the election, and life got in the way.

Chapter 6 - Proof

“Is this the tree?”

“No.”

“This one?” 

“No.”

“You said, it looks like a dog?” 

“Yes.”

“What about this one?” Dugan asked as he tilted his head to the side and squinted, “Kinda looks like a beagle to me.”

She looked at the tree Dum Dum was staring at. She tried to picture it heavy with snow weighing down its branches and looked at the shape of the bushes that circled the trunk of the tree. “Holy shit.” 

She ran to the tree where Dugan was, excitement overtaking her exhaustion for the moment making her every footstep feel light and easy. “Yes! This is it!” 

She stopped short of the tree just staring up at it. It was such a simple thing but it held all her hopes for the future. The bag she’d brought with her contained literally everything she could not live without as per Thor’s instructions before they went ‘emergency camping’ due to the infestation of Catamonsters on Asgard. And through her essential belongings she hoped to convince the 1940s crowd she wasn’t crazy, and maybe even help her go home. 

She grinned at Dugan toothily. “This is the one. Thank you.” 

Filled with gratitude she grabbed Dugan’s face and kissed him on the lips. Impulsivity, thy name is Darcy Lewis. He didn’t respond to the kiss at all and she could feel him tensing up under her hands and lips. She quickly let him go sensing he didn’t appreciate the gesture and was in fact uncomfortable.

Beyond the bushy mustache the burly man blushed and stuttered, “Ah, uh. You’re welcome.” 

As Morita came to stand with them she looked at the ground to gather herself. Kissing Dugan had been stupid and impulsive and just the teensy bit motivated by revenge over Bucky’s rejection of her truth. Still, she hoped it didn’t permanently ruin the friendships she had been building with the soldiers. 

She decided to push her embarrassment deep down inside and just act like nothing weird had happened because in reality it was just a brief kiss of hooray-ness. She felt confident Dugan would let it slide if she didn’t acknowledge it. 

After a second she looked up at the men, once again composed. She smiled at them warmly when she saw their twin expectant expressions. It was so clear that they believed her story or at the very least _wanted_ to believe her. The lack of judgment or scorn on Dum Dum’s face was especially heartening. 

“Seriously,” She said in a soft voice eyeing the men, “Thank you for coming with me this far, guys. You didn’t have to and—just thank you.” She knew she couldn’t have found the tree if Dugan and Morita hadn’t stood up for her against Bucky. He hadn’t been bluffing, he’d been ready to throw her over his shoulder against her wishes and make her leave the Hydra site without her proof. And while she understood where Bucky was coming from and that he thought his actions would have been ‘for her own good’, it was just shit. The whole situation was fucked and everything was shit. 

“Can we get on with it?” Morita muttered under his breath, he had a gun at the ready and his eyes were constantly scanning the trees around them. When they’d gone around the Hydra weapons facility it had been really weird because it was totally empty. 

There had been no sign of any Hydra soldiers as they crept around the fenced in area that was still burning down. Well, they had not seen any living soldiers anyway, a smattering of bodies littered the ground but it seemed suspiciously odd that a half an hour after the 107th’s grand escape the place was a ghost town. Morita was distrustful of this fact and had been more or less acting as their guard as she and Dugan tried to find the correct tree.

“Totally.” She confirmed with a nod in his direction. She turned her attention back to the tree. She’d hidden her messenger bag at the base of the tree which was surrounded by a bunch of bushes. She could feel both men crowding behind her as she crouched down and then went face first into the greenery. 

Ignoring the scratching of twigs and the leaf she almost swallowed she looked for her bag but found only dirt. Pulling back she moved over and repeated the process. 

“BINGO BITCHES!” She exclaimed as she fought to drag the large rectangular messenger bag out of its leafy hiding place. 

“Holy shit, she was telling the truth!” Dugan exclaimed with enthusiasm that matched her own.

Morita was quick to temper his friend’s excitement. “It’s a courier bag, not a flying car. Calm down man.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes but said nothing as she brushed off the dirt and leaves and gross nature from her faux leather lifeline. Once clean she hugged the bag to her chest and whispered into the material, “Fucking thank you.” 

The exhaustion she’d felt before came rushing back and she let her butt fall onto the cold ass forest floor, her legs falling into a V shape with the bag in the middle. Her shoulders gave twin twinges of pain as if to remind her she was still injured. However the pain couldn’t dampen her relief. Having proof in her hands made her feel like she was finally ‘safe’ for the first time since she’d arrived in the time period. 

“Thank Thor.” She muttered as she pulled at her laces loosening them and then repeated the process with her other foot.

“What are you doing?” Morita asked as she yanked the pink combat boots off her feet.

She wiggled and stretched her toes before replying, “I haven’t showered in forever, I smell, I look like crap—don’t even try to say I don’t—and now that I have my stuff, all I want to do is put on a clean pair of socks.” 

There was deep satisfaction as she peeled off the sweaty gross socks she’d been forced to wear for weeks and threw them as far away from herself as she could. 

“We don’t have time for this.” Morita argued with a frown.

She rolled her eyes at him, “No one’s here. We’re fine.” 

“We don’t know that.” He said, giving her a pointed look. 

Just to be obnoxious she countered, “We don’t _not_ know that.” 

“What?” Morita said, confused. 

However before she could reply Dugan interrupted. Crouching down at her side he tugged on her bag and peeked inside, “So, where’s the proof?” 

She slapped his hand away and glared at him. “No touchy touchy my stuff.” 

“You got something to hide darlin’?” He asked her, humor coloring the question.

“Yes of course.” She answered plainly.

“What do you mean by that?” Morita asked with accusing eyes. 

She smiled at him reassuringly, “My menstruation products, my travel vibrator, my underwear. Every lady has things in their purse they’d rather keep a secret. Need I elaborate?”

Morita’s face was beet red. “No ma’am.” 

Dugan chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright.” As he sat down on the floor with her his mustache twitched before he asked, “Are you really not going to show us any proof you’re from the future before we head back to camp?”

She laughed at his put out expression and opened the flap of her bag, gesturing to the contents inside like she was Vanna White. “Feel free to look—with your eyes not your hands, but all the proof I have requires some explanation and will take a little bit of time to set up for an appropriate ‘ta da’ moment.”

Morita finally lowered his gun and gave her his full attention, “Maybe your right about Hydra runnin’. I think we got time enough for you to prove to us you are who you say you are.” 

As if to illustrate his point he sat down with her and Dugan on the floor, setting his gun down of to the side. 

“Okay.” She agreed, holding up one finger. “But first.” The chilly air was turning her toes to ice; a shiver went down her spine as she quickly grabbed the small travel bag that contained her emergency fuzzy sleep socks and underwear. She rushed to cover her feet in the warm fabric. Spying her beanie she pulled it on shoving as much hair inside it as possible while still covering her ears. While she did this her eyes lingered on her ipod and phone, the socks had been acting as a cushion and all she could think was ‘god I hope they aren’t broken’. 

Staring at the inactive technological blocks had her itching to get them back in her hands, but seeing them also reminded her that the phone was at like 5% last time she checked. So if she was going to be forced to prove her future-ness to the government people when they got back, she’d have to get her hands on some electricity first. 

It also set her mind spinning on _how_ she was going to prove herself. Of course, she could just hand over her phone or laptop or tablet or any of her other ‘future’ technology, but was that what was best for the space time continuum? She had no idea. She honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. And now that she had her bag the reality of the task to prove she was from the future was a daunting one. Perhaps getting to do a test run on Morita and Dugan was a blessing in disguise. 

The men eyed her bag and its contents but it really didn’t look all that exciting. Everything in the bag besides her phone and the change of clothes at the bottom were in zippered pouches or some kind of case. She smiled at their disappointed pouts.Instead of addressing their need for evidence, she turned her attention back to her feet. She never thought a pair of socks could make her feel refreshed and happy, but they did.

She didn’t suppress the need to squeal in delight and ended up kicking her feet in the air several times in quick succession just because she was so fucking happy. Her socks were colorful and clean and soft and it just felt amazing to get out of her boots and stretch her toes and feel unconfined. She looked at her dirtied up pink combat boots resentfully and hissed at them quietly, “Foot prisons.” 

Dugan grabbed her by her big toe and shook her foot making her chuckle. “Nice socks.” 

“Yeah.” She agreed with a sigh as she reached for her combat boots and began stuffing her feet back inside. She had a pair of roll up flats but for the trek they were on the boots were a better choice. 

“What’s that?” Morita asked, pointing to her laptop case. It was the biggest thing in the bag and arguably the most important given it contained oodles of Jane’s research. Transcribing her boss’s chicken scratch notes into legible text was one of her main duties as her assistant, as was compiling the data they collected from Jane’s various machine read outs. 

“That’s my laptop.” She answered. 

“What’s a laptop?” Morita asked. 

“It’s a computer that is small enough to fit on your lap.” She explained as she tightened her laces.

“What’s a computer?” Dugan asked. 

The question made her pause. Her knowledge of when things were invented was for shit. She knew a lot about the fifties, thanks to Nick at Night, but the forties? She couldn’t think of one movie star from this era that she was familiar with. Not one song. Not one TV show…she wasn’t even certain people had TV’s at this point in time. 

Realizing how fucked she was her eyes darted to her bag. She had pinned all her hopes onto Jane’s research and the ‘magical’ abilities inherent in her laptop, the music in her ipod, the offline games on her phone, her pictures and videos. She was desperately aware that her knowledge of the 1940’s would not save her. Her stuff really was her only hope. 

Her hands scrambled inside the bag checking for dampness. If the stuff was damaged by the elements she was screwed. The bottom of the bag was cold and a little wet, her change of clothes and Asgardian souvenir had definitely bore the brunt of this, but the underside of her laptop case felt dry. As did the other electronics cases. Assured of the bag’s dryness another possible problem popped into her head. 

“Darcy?” Dugan prompted, “What’s a computer?” 

She answered the question with one of her own, “I know you guys have electricity and everything, but do you use plugs?” 

“What?” Dugan’s confused face had her reaching for the little cosmetic bag she kept her phone charger in, pulling it out she held up the end with the plug on it for the men to see. 

“This.” She said gesturing to the metal prongs, “You guys use things like this to get electricity right?” 

“Uh,..” Dugan looked over at Morita and it was he who actually answered her. Reaching for the cord he held it up to his eyes examining it closely. 

“Yeah.” He said handing it back to her, “Looks a little different—fancier, than any I’ve seen before, but yes. We use plugs.” 

She breathed a sigh of relief and put the cord back in the bag she got it from. “Okay. Good.” 

Hit with a wave of paranoia she felt the urge to check all her devices and make sure they really weren’t damaged. Her phone looked fine, but she didn’t turn it on knowing how low the battery was. However when she pressed the center button on her ipod the screen lit up making her smile. 

“What’s that?” Morita asked his eyes wide as he stared at the tiny glowing screen.

“My ipod.” She answered as she searched for the matching ear buds.

“What’s an ipod?” Dugan asked sounding a little annoyed about having to ask so many clarifying questions.

Her lips pulled upwards as she found her ear buds and turned to Morita, she gestured to his ear. “If you let me put this in your ear I can show you.” 

Morita nodded eagerly and leaned over, offering her accessibility. Silently she inserted the tiny device and then offered the other to Dugan.

He looked a little wary. “What’s it do?” 

“Something awesome.” She answered cryptically. 

He wasn’t amused. “Darlin’....” 

Interrupting she shrugged nonchalantly saying, “You don’t have to wear it. I just thought you wanted proof.” 

She offered the other ear bud to Morita and he eagerly took it, stuffing the device in to his other ear. She grinned at his enthusiasm and turned her attention to her ipod. It had over 5,000 songs and most of them would probably have the soldier shaking his ‘old man’ fist at her yelling ‘you call that music in the future?’ So she considered the choice of song a very important decision. 

After about a minute of scrolling through her ipod library in total silence Dugan asked Morita, “What’s happening?” 

“Nothing yet.” He said snippily, “Now shush. Don’t ruin her concentration.” 

Dugan let out a loud barking laugh. “Damn, I didn’t realize you were so invested.” 

She was sure Morita was about to respond with some with snappy comment, but in that moment she found the perfect song. And she hit play. 

The man jerked like he’d been shocked by a toy buzzer, his hands clapped over his ears but he didn’t dislodge the ear buds. 

“IT’S MUSIC!” He shouted his eyes wide and a look on his face of pure, unadulterated astonishment. 

Darcy laughed at his unnecessarily loud volume. “You don’t have to yell.” 

Morita nodded in acknowledgment but after a second continued to bob his head along with the beat of the song. “This is--is this you? Are you singing?” 

She smiled at the compliment but shook her head, “No. This is a song by Lana Del Rey.” 

“It’s good.” He informed them.

She looked over at Dugan, his eyes were on her. “You’re for real.” He said sounding awed.

“Unfortunately.” She told him, her words just a touch sad.

“You’ve got to hear this!” Morita said to Dugan enthusiastically, he pulled out the ear bud and offered it up to Dugan, but that had him uncomfortably leaning across her body and she grabbed the ear bud out of his hand to purpose a better solution. 

“How about we take out both ear pieces and I turn up the volume really loud? Then we can all hear. It’s not—it can’t go _super_ impressively loud or anything, but it’s quiet so we should all be able to hear it.” 

Morita nodded eagerly and took out the ear bud. Once both pieces were in her hand she restarted the song and turned the volume up as high as it could go. When the sultry sound of the woman’s voice played she couldn’t help but sing along. She had of course chosen one of her favorite songs to share. 

“In the land of gods and monsters  
I was an angel  
Living in the garden of evil  
Screwed up, scared  
Doing anything that I needed  
Shining like a fiery beacon  
You got that medicine I need  
Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly  
Put your hands on my waist, do it softly  
Me and God we don’t get along, so now I sing  
No one’s gonna take my soul away  
Living like Jim Morrison  
Headed towards a fucked up holiday  
Motel, sprees, sprees, and I’m singing  
Fuck yeah give it to me  
This is heaven, what I truly want  
It’s innocence lost  
Innocence lost.”

Once it reached the second verse of the song she turned off the device and made to put it away, much to the men’s dismay. 

“Hey! I wanna hear the rest.” Morita pouted.

“Later.” She promised, “I wanna make sure my most persuasive evidence is still intact.” 

“Pretty song.” Dugan said, his voice filled with an emotion she couldn’t identify. 

“My ipod holds over 5,000 songs. Most of which sing about butts. That one was a rare exception.” That got her a laugh out of Morita.

Incredulous he asked, “Butts?”

“Butts and getting laid.” She mumbled as she got her laptop out of its case. As she turned on the computer and the screen lit up, it occurred to her that the bright blue light would be easy to spot in the dark. It was probably around 2 or 3 in the morning, and she spared a thought of what would happen if Hydra wasn’t as cleared out of the area as they thought. But she quickly dismissed the idea as both men scooted closer, their eyes glued to the sleek machine. 

“What’re you doing?” Dugan asked. 

“Turning it on.” She said curtly. Her nerves about the devices status had her feeling impatient, it didn’t help that it seemed to be taking longer to boot up than usual. However, when the log in page came up and both men jerked back, she got to laugh out loud with relief and amusement. 

She loved the reactions she got whenever she logged into the laptop in public. Her background for logging in was a tasteful duo of pictures featuring half naked men at the [beach.](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fb/4c/ee/fb4cee623ed77e9bd5c80663d73f53c4.jpg)  
.  
“Whoa! You didn’t tell us this computer was a sex thing!” Dugan exclaimed. Morita just looked at her with his eyebrows raised. 

“No. The computer is not inherently a sex thing.” She explained as she typed in her password, “I mean, yeah tons of people use it for sex, but they don’t have to.” After a beat she added, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they totally do. Porn is like, 75% of the internet. But the point is, you don’t _have_ to use a computer for sex stuff.”

“But you do.” Morita said pointing at the background screen, “Use it for sex stuff.” 

“Who is that guy?” Dugan inquired not letting her answer as he nudged her gently with his elbow, “Boyfriend from back home?” 

She snorted. “No. They are random hot naked guys I just to look at ‘cause there hot. And naked.” She gave him a pointed look, “You guys have porn in the 1940s right? Like nudie mags and like…I wanna say strip joints but that doesn’t sound fancy enough for these times. Burlesque shows? Is that what they’re called?” 

Dugan went beet red. “What!? We shouldn’t—I can’t talk about this. With _you_!”

“Why not?”

Dugan getting all flustered was truly fascinating. “It’s. Well, you’re very--but Sarge and you. Listen, it’s just too--too inappropriate.” He said with a nod of finality. 

Dum Dum name dropping ‘Sarge’ made her think that he had somehow categorized her as ‘Bucky’s girl’ or some such shit and that’s where all his awkwardness was coming from. Silently she reminded herself that this was a different time but couldn’t resist being argumentative just because. “You think sex is inappropriate?”

A frown pulled at her lips as she realized the women’s rights movement hadn’t happened yet. Or well, it had but not to the extent she was familiar with. She was sure women could vote, but not own property? Or they could but it had to be co-signed by husbands and shit? She really should have paid more attention in school. Annoyed about gender inequality she nudged Dugan sharply with her elbow. “Spoilers Dugan, the sexual revolution is a comin’. 1960s. Get ready for some kinky shit, like pegging.” 

“The sexual what?” Dugan squeaked.

Morita chuckled to himself, “And to think I thought all the foul language was just a personality quirk.” 

“Hey, fuck you.” She poked him in the chest. “I’m a lady.”

Morita smirked at her, “A lady who looks at porn and knows about pegging?” 

“You know about pegging?” She asked, her eyebrows raising high on her forehead.

Morita shrugged, “I like to be well informed about these things.” 

The response made her laugh and the tension between the three of them eased as her more tame [photo collage](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a0/49/14/a04914226fbb70c83289b62a418e0022.jpg) background filled the screen. Eager to experience more future technology both men leaned back in to take a closer look at the computer.

“So, what’s this thing do when it’s not used for sex? Some kind of fancy photo album?” Morita asked as he studied the pictures of her and her friends. A thousand ideas of what to show them ran through her head in the space of a few seconds, but staring at her computer wallpaper all thoughts of proving herself vanished from her mind. 

She’d made the [photo collage](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/a0/49/14/a04914226fbb70c83289b62a418e0022.jpg) a while ago and it was a mix of her favorite pictures of her favorite people. Seeing Jane and Thor and Erik’s faces…it didn’t feel good exactly it was more like an ache, but one she wanted to feel. One she was grateful for. 

In that moment she realized that her home wasn’t in 2014. It wasn’t Earth. It wasn’t London. Or New Mexico. Or even Long Island where she was born. Home, for her, was the people in the photo’s she was looking at. And she missed them terribly. 

In an effort to _not_ burst into tears, she pointed at the largest picture on the screen and started talking. “That’s Jane. My boss and best friend.” 

Sensing the shift in her mood, Dugan’s voice softened as he asked for clarification, “Jane. She’s the astrophysics. Right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“She’s pretty.” He commented.

“Yeah.” She said a little deflated.

“What’s she working on?” Morita asked. The picture was from their New Mexico days, Jane was soldering something, Darcy had no idea what but she remembered taking the picture and what prompted her to do so. It was a bittersweet memory.

“I don’t know what she was working on.” She elaborated, “This was taken a little before we met Thor. Back then Jane didn’t really trust me with like, anything. Granted I wasn’t exactly interested in her field of study but still. She had me make coffee, fetch her things, and drive the van. That was it. I was bored out of my mind and a little insulted by her lack of faith, so..we weren’t getting on very well. However, this is the moment that changed our relationship.” 

“How so?” Morita prompted.

Suppressing tears she felt itching to make an appearance she explained, “Right before I took this picture I told Jane if she didn’t give me something meaningful to do I was going make it my mission in life to turn her into a lesbian and then withhold sex from her as a form of punishment for her shitty mentoring.” 

Dugan barked out a laugh and Morita scoffed. “Hell girl, that’s just mean.” 

“It helped break the wall of tension between us. After that, Jane started to explain the things she was doing. Not that I understood it all mind you, but still the effort was appreciated.” She sighed, “And because I finally showed some interest in what we were doing she started to trust me more. Let me transcribe notes. Chart data. Make spreadsheets. And even do a little maintenance on her precious carefully calibrated sensitive machines that were held together with duct tape and all her hopes and dreams.” 

“Who’s that?” Dugan pointed to a picture of her and Thor. She had his cape wrapped around her shoulders and he was making a funny face at the camera. She pulled the machine closer to her body, the heat of it more of a tease than a comfort. 

“Thor.” She said with shiver, her pants provided little protection from the cold seeping into her bones from the ground. What she wouldn’t give for Thor to be next to her right then, he would have offered up his cape to keep her warm.

With affection coloring her voice she told them, “Thor… at this point I consider him like my boy bestie. Truthfully he’s such a goofball underneath the whole ‘I am the God of Thunder and Prince of Asgard’ thing.” 

Dugan gestured to the picture of Thor wearing a hair bow headband. “Doesn’t look like a god to me. Looks more like a fool.” 

Back on Earth some time before the visit to Asgard, Tony Stark reached out and told Thor about some sick little girl who’s ‘Make A Wish’ was to meet him. Darcy had tagged along on the goodwill mission and documented it for posterity for the little girl’s parents. 

Thor in all his godly regalia sat down with the little girl and a couple of her stuffed animals to have a tea party. When the little girl told him she thought he was the prettiest hero she ever saw and lamented the loss of her hair due to her chemo treatment, Thor had told her she looked beautiful. Then he said he wished to look as dashing as she and plucked the bowed headband off the child’s head and slid it onto his own. 

The child shrieked in delight and then offered to do his makeup so he could be even _prettier_. He let her paint his face to her heart’s content, by the end he looked like a hung-over drag queen. It was hilarious and heartwarming and sad all at once. 

At the end of the visit, after he left the room and bid the parent’s goodbye and it was just her and Thor in the elevator he let the jovial façade fade away. He grew somber and they went out to get drinks, over the course of the night she discovered how ‘deep’ Thor was under his reformed frat boy persona. And that’s how she and Thor became real friends. Not just friends because he was dating her friend, but actual friends. 

“Thor’s the best.” She said simply. She could have taken up Thor’s defense and explained the context of the photos, but if she did she knew she would end up crying. 

“Is that Steve?” Morita asked squinting and moving closer to the screen. 

“Yeah.” She said with a smile as she looked at one of the smaller pictures in the collage. 

It was a screen grab of Thor and Steve after or during the Chitarui invasion. The picture was from some news program and was crappy quality, but it was just one of those awkward moment pictures that she couldn’t help but screenshot and add to her collection. 

Of the duo Thor looked especially terrible. His cape was all un-majestic, his hair was crazy, his expression comical. When she’d shown Thor the unflattering picture he’d been all ‘harumph’. When she’d added it to her photo collage he’d been all ‘whyyyyyy?’ in his most whiney voice. She found it all very hilarious. 

“Who’s that older man?” Dugan asked. “Your father?”

“No.” Darcy said, “That’s Dr. Erik Selvig. He’s Jane’s Obi-Wan.” 

“Her what?” Morita questioned.

She had a feeling the whole ‘not getting the reference thing’ was going to be a running theme in her life for a while and she was not happy about it. “He was her mentor. And sometimes collaborator of wacky space science theory stuff.” 

There were two pictures of Erik on the screen. One Thor had taken of her, him, and Jane, they were all laughing and a little drunk. And the other was one she had taken of him. It was from after the Dark Elves nonsense, after his mental breakdown, and after the first time she had taken him to therapy. “But you’re half right. He kind of was like our ‘teams’ dad.” 

As she looked at the other pictures her eyes grew wet. These were her favorite pictures. 

In one Jane about to dress down some gender snob who had touched Darcy’s ass at a scientific conference. In another Jane’s surprised face looked back at her, it was from when Darcy threw her a birthday party and she had forgotten her own birthday so it was a real surprise-surprise party. In another one she had taken of Jane and Thor, the two had been sharing a tender moment and she had ruined it by whisper singing “Kiss the Girl” in a terrible Jamaican accent making both of them laugh. 

Each picture had a story and every story was connected to a beloved memory that made her yearn for “home”. 

“Darcy?” Morita said softly.

She was crying. She was full on crying in public and it embarrassed her so deeply but she couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed unattractively and wiped at her face. “Ignore me.” 

“Oh honey,” Dugan slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a one armed hug. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I want to go home.” She confessed as more tears fell from her eyes. She wiped at them aggressively as she whimpered, “I miss my family.” 

“We’ll get you home.” Dugan promised. And he probably said it as a reflex or to be comforting, but it was bullshit and it just made her start to sob. There was no guarantee she would ever go home, or if she did that the people there would be the same.

She cried for about five minutes before it occurred to her that she was running down the battery of the laptop for no good reason. Quickly she shoved off of Dugan and shut down the laptop. It worked, that was the important thing.

Sniffing back tears and snot she put the computer back into its carrying case and then back into her messenger bag. She was grateful the men didn’t comment on her breakdown. And when she got up, her bag packed and secured over her chest, they got up too. “We should get going.” 

“Yeah.” Morita agreed.

“About that,” Dugan said with a mischievous smile, “On our way here, I saw something that might make catching up with the others a little easier. And more fun.”  
.  
.  
.  
Apparently Dugan had spied some motorcycles when they had walked around the Hydra facility. Given that they were about an hour or more behind the rest of the 107th they all agreed it was worth the risk of going to retrieve them.

They were very cautious as they made their way back into the gated facility. Both Morita and Dugan kept their weapons up and at the ready the whole time. When they reached the motorcycles, one was laying on its side and the other was half buried under some crates of ammo, but when they tried them out both roared to life. 

“So how are we going to do this?” She asked tiredly rubbing at her eyes; her little crying fit had really taken a lot out of her. “I’ve never ridden on one of these before.” 

“Me either.” Morita said as he got on to the vehicle despite his reservations. 

“Then I guess you should ride with me darlin’.” Dugan said, patting the leather seat behind him. “I won’t let you fall off, promise.” 

Darcy got on the motorcycle behind Dugan and moved her bag so it rested on her stomach, wrapping her arms around Dugan’s waist felt like added protection for the precious cargo wedged between them. As Dum Dum explained to Morita the finer points of driving a motorcycle she tuned them out and rested her head on Dugan’s back. 

His vest smelled like sweat and metal. In addition she could smell his manly B.O. due to the vest being his only clothing up top. She lifted her arm and let one finger run down his bicep. She was unsurprised to find goose flesh covering his skin, the air was cold and had a bite to it. She scooted closer and tightened her hold. Dum Dum Dugan had given up his sweater to her back when they were prisoners. He had believed in her crazy story. Gone against his friend. And let her cry all over his shoulder. 

“You’re good people, Dugan.” She told him unceremoniously. Her head was swimming a little; she was so tired it wasn’t even funny. 

He patted her hand and said, “Hang on darlin’.” 

And then they were moving. Her eyes shot over to Morita, concerned that his inexperience on the vehicle would lead to disaster. His eyes were on the road ahead and he had an anxious but determined expression on his face. 

“Thank you.” She told him; even though he couldn’t hear her it felt important that she say the words.

These men had accepted her and befriended her and she was so fucking grateful. She knew their support would mean a lot moving forward. And she tried not to feel guilty about growing closer to them even though it felt like getting further away from Jane and Thor and Erik. 

In a sense surrendering she decided their fate was out of her hands, at least for the meantime. And she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep and prayed to Thor she wouldn’t fall off.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Cheery yelling woke her from her sleep. When she jerked awake she almost fell off the motorcycle, but Dugan’s strong hand on her arm anchoring her to his back saved her. Blearily she took in the convoy of freed prisoners and blinked at the early light beginning to brighten the sky. 

“Urrr.” She grumbled and stubbornly tried to go back to sleep by pressing her face directly into the middle of Dugan’s back. 

She could feel him laughing at her through the vibrations of his chest. “Welcome back to the living darlin’.” 

“Fuck off.” She muttered as she turned her head so her ear was against his back and her face facing away from the happy-to-see-them soldiers. 

The bike slowed as they joined the men on their march. Though she was technically awake, she kept her eyes closed and remained unmoving. Many of the men called out to Dugan and Morita, welcoming them back, asking about where they been, and congratulating them on not dying or killing Darcy. 

Every time Dugan shouted out a congenital reply she tensed up as it ruined the illusion that she could go back to sleep. And then one voice cut through air like the crack of lighting, “What’s wrong with Darcy?! Why ain’t she—is she hurt?” 

Darcy turned to face the other way, but tried hard not to look like she cared that Bucky’s only concern was for her wellbeing. But secretly she thought it was sweet. 

Dugan pulled up to the front of the line, putting them almost arms length away from Bucky and Steve. 

“I’m fine.” She said, just loud enough to be heard of the motor of the bike. 

“You don’t look fine.” Bucky argued with a crease in his brow. The feminist in her wanted to rant and rave at him, because seriously how dare he comment on her appearance right now. 

She reached out to him instead, he grabbed for hand eagerly. “I’m fine, I swear. Just tired.”

She gave his palm a gentle squeeze before letting go and wrapping back around Dugan. She was happy to see Bucky, but still a little resentful and she didn’t want to talk. So she turned her head and faced the other way pretending to sleep.

“What happened?” Steve asked, she presumed speaking to Dugan.

“We found her bag. We got some bikes. And now we’re here.” Dum Dum told him. 

“And her supposed proof?” Bucky asked sounding odd.

“She’s on the up and up Sarge. Everything she said…I think she’s sane. And I think she told us the truth about everything.” He paused before adding, “Maybe even too much of the truth.” 

Darcy found it interesting that Bucky had nothing to say for the next 5 miles.  
.  
.  
.  
By the time they reached the camp Darcy was no longer feigning sleep, but walking with the other non-injured soldiers. She and Dugan had given up the bike to some soldier who had lost an arm, the guys legs worked fine and his other arm too, but just seemed like the right thing to do. Morita did the same for someone who was just weak and tired. 

So, when the 107th made its heroic return, she was right there up front with the major players. 

She could only imagine how badass it looked with Steve in front leading all the freed prisoners back into the Allies territory. She knew from history that the 107th had been written off by the military as ‘as good as dead’ and it was only Steve’s intervention which saved their lives. 

Shouts and cheers erupted around them as they made their way further into the camp. Darcy felt a little awkward being stuck in the thick of it, having adulation thrown her way when she did nothing to receive it, because it wasn’t about her. She wasn’t ‘one of them’. But she was with them. She tried to ‘run away’ as subtly as possible, but Dugan who was by her side put his arm around her shoulders keeping her where she was. 

As they approached the tents she watched with semi-amused as Steve saluted an older man with a serious face who was obviously his superior officer. 

“Some of these men need medical attention.” Steve informed him. 

The older man looked astonished; he was probably one of the doubters who had written them off as dead. She snorted loudly a second later when Steve said, “I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.”

 _Like that would happen after what he’d pulled off._ He was such a troll.

“That won’t be necessary.” The older man told him. 

“Yes, sir.” Steve replied. It was clear the older man was happy for Steve and she felt her opinion of the military guy shift a little towards sympathy. She imagined it couldn’t be easy to write off over a hundred men, especially when they were yours. 

She knew that historically Steve’s rescue of the 107th saved more than just the men who made it up, he also gave the Allies a figurehead to rally around more so than his propaganda days ever did, especially for those doing the actual fighting. And in that moment you could see the older man filling with hope and respect, due to Steve and his actions. 

It was a small moment in time that never got recorded, but being there she could see how important it was. 

As the serious man walked away he stopped and spoke to the only other woman around besides Darcy. “Faith, huh?” 

When the woman approached Steve and spoke in a cultured British voice she knew at once that this was Peggy Carter. “You’re late.” 

Steve held up a broken radio thing and endearingly informed her, “Couldn’t call my ride.” 

Just then Bucky called out to the men, “Hey! Let’s hear it for Captain America!” 

As the crowd applauded and cheered Darcy felt honored to witness this auspicious moment in history. And even though she felt like she didn’t belong, she cheered along with the rest of them because Steve’s feat really was one worthy of praise. He was an American hero and this was the event that set him on the path to greatness.  
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What Darcy’s Wearing When They Make Their Return  


What’s In The Bag  


What’s In One of The Bags In Her “Bag”  


What’s In One of The Bags In Her “Bag”  


What’s In One of The Bags In Her “Bag”  


What’s In One of The Bags In Her “Bag”  


Titillating Log In Page  


Computer Photo Collage Background  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I hope you enjoyed getting some more info about Darcy and getting to see the Darcy/Dugan/Morita bond grow. I am curious how you all are reading the Darcy/Dugan thing, like are you feeling romantic vibes, fatherly vibes, or friendship or all of the above.  
> Interested to hear what you think as I was going to end the chapter with them going to join the 107th but then decided I needed at least a little bit of Bucky in the chapter and so went a little farther.
> 
> I'M SO EXCITED AND (a little worried) ABOUT INTRODUCING HOWARD STARK NEXT CHAPTER!!!!  
> Howard (Dominc Cooper version) is one of my faves from the Agent Carter series. And he and Darcy are going to interact and I'm not spoiling anything about it, but I hope it's going to be fun.
> 
> Also, about the pictures of what's in Darcy's bag, yes I really did have to be that EXTRA in showing what she has with her, cause that's how I roll.


	7. Agent Peggy Carter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry again for the 2 week update schedule, my mom is in the hospital I'm not going to bore y'all with details but it's not coronovirus so I'm not freaking out but I'm still dealing with some shit.
> 
> As for the chapter, I know I promised Howard, but I realized that even though the movie scene transitions from Captain America rescue straight to Steve, Peggy, and Phillips in war room, that is them going from Austria to London and so we will have to wait one more chapter until we meet Dominic Cooppers Howard Stark. 
> 
> But I like the way this chapter turned out if it's any consolation.

Chapter 7 – Agent Peggy Carter

Once all the fanfare around Captain America’s heroics had died down and the crowd started to disperse in various directions, Darcy decided to bite the bullet herself and chose her newest target. 

Meeting up with Bucky and the Howling Commando’s in captivity had been true happenstance, but befriending them? That was a strategic move she’d made early on. The fact was she needed allies to pull off living in this era and having formidable men on her side could only take her so far. Extending her hand for a shake she all but shoved Steve out of the way in her effort to get to Peggy Carter. 

The woman looked bewildered but allowed the vigorous handshake that continued throughout her spiel. “Hello Agent Carter, I’m Darcy Lewis. I was _also_ being tortured by the evil Hydra Nazi’s, but for different reasons that I’d rather not get into now because the important thing is I have valuable information that can help with the war effort but I have not gotten to shower or properly clean myself in over a week and I want new clothes and I was impaled so I probably need a band-aid or something too, and food, food would be nice, but seriously my top priority is clean underwear. Can you help me please?” 

As she released the other woman’s hand the voluptuous brunette blinked at her slowly then turned to Steve with a raised eyebrow. Sensing hesitancy Darcy interrupted whatever silent conversation was about to take place by saying, “I’m not crazy, just exhausted and desperate which makes me talk faster and a lot and I know it’s off putting but, I’m a good person and you can trust me and I need your help and I’m asking you specifically because you’re a woman and I need a new bra.” That was a lie. 

Well, not the part about a new bra.

She had no idea how many females the military employed but from her limited knowledge of the war only one was of note. Margret Elizabeth Carter. She was a notorious badass lady boss in every sense of the word and Darcy needed to be her friend. Or at the very least endear herself to the woman. Not because Peggy was giving off a secretly warm and fuzzy inside vibes, but because she was a woman who got shit done. Like, historically, it was a fact. She was in the proto-SHIELD-agency the SSR during and after the war and then she went on to become one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D itself, along with Howard Stark. 

And while Darcy didn’t know everything about Peggy Carter, she knew enough. She knew the woman was a trailblazer who started off as a code breaker and ended up a legend. And it that quality of a ‘girl in a man’s world’ and just plain impressive and competent that she needed on her side if she had any hope of getting back to her own time. Or, adjusting to life in this new one. 

“She’s been through it.” Steve said as if to excuse her odd behavior. “And she was being held by Zola when I found her, that parts true. She claims to have spent a lot of time with the man one on one while he hurt and experimented on her and I--” Steve’s eyes shifted to her and she met his gaze with an encouraging grin to hide the hurt she felt when he used the word ‘claim’ as if her word was still in question. “Agent Carter, I think what she knows could really help us.” 

“See.” Darcy said gesturing to Steve, but when she looked back to the lady agent the plastic smile on her face melted. She had expected the woman to jump at the chance to help her and learn the ‘secrets’ she’d discovered about their enemy, but Peggy Carter was looking her over from head to toe with a critical eye. 

And maybe introducing herself to Peggy via word vomit with several plot holes in her official back-story still to be determined was a mistake. But she thought meeting Peggy fresh off of the high that came from contributing to Steve’s first ‘Captain America’ win would make the woman more open to accepting Darcy at face value. She thought being viewed as one of Zola’s victims would garner her sympathy. She thought Bucky and the other future Howling Commando’s hovering just over her shoulder would lend credence to her story and her true intentions. 

The evaluating gaze made her realize she’d made a tactical error. Peggy Carter might trust Steve and his endorsement, but the agent was a shrewd woman. Darcy was trying to insert herself into for lack of a better term ‘Team Cap-OG version’. And she wasn’t being subtle. She could only imagine what the other woman was thinking. Probably something along the same lines as Bucky and the others had before she’d gotten her proof, but worse. Spy. Infiltrator. Hydra mole. 

And that was logical and fair, but also a pain in her ass. 

“What kind of information do you have, Miss Lewis?” Peggy asked with a stern expression. With gulp Darcy realized no amount of charm would win her over. Which meant shifting gears and quickly. 

She squared her shoulders and resisted the urge to look back at the Howling Commando’s for support. Meeting the woman’s eyes she responded without a hint of humor and none of the frantic energy she’d displayed before. “The kind of information that could help you end the war. Insider information about Hydra’s goals and means of…” Her mind went blank momentarily and she paused as she grasped for the right words that would compel Peggy Carter to start to trust her. “Um…treachery?” 

“Maybe interrogating a woman who’s spent the past week or so getting tortured by a sadistic squid ain’t what we should be doing right now.” Bucky said as he moved to stand at her side. He put a hand on her lower back and she turned into him slightly. He gave her a heated look and pointed out, “You _were_ impaled on a table just yesterday.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the concern she saw written across his features because honestly it was nice to know that he cared. 

“I’m fine.” She responded reflexively. This made Bucky glare at her and she couldn’t help but smile brighter for it.

“ _You were impaled._ ” He repeated, his hand moving to hover over her leather clad shoulder. “Don’t you think your priority should be to get it looked at?”

Her shoulders did ache, but not as much as they had before so she figured, “It can wait. What I really want is to not feel gross anymore.” Lowering her voice as if to share a secret she whispered, “And I feel so gross.”

Behind her she heard Dugan snicker, but the sound was layered with Peggy quietly inquiring of Steve “Is that your jacket she’s wearing?”

Bucky drew her focus so she didn’t hear Steve’s reply. 

“Dollface.” Bucky sighed, “Haven’t you heard of infection? Sepsis?” He quickly grew agitated exploding, “You need to be reasonable! You can’t--” She was grateful that Steve stepped in and put his hand on Bucky’s shoulder halting his words. 

“Perhaps Sergeant Barnes is correct?” Steve said looking at Peggy hopefully, “Treating the wounded sh--”

“Treating the wounded to a new pair of underwear and clothes!” She interjected quickly with a point of her finger, Steve’s resulting brief smile made her grin smugly, but when she flickered her eyes over to Peggy Carter again she cursed her need to make light of things and her instinct to perform. 

Direct, Peggy asked her. “Who do you work for?” 

“Jane Foster.” She answered honestly. “She’s an astrophysicist.” 

Carter looked her up and down once more. “Fine.” Turning on her heel she started walking away and Darcy started after her trying to keep up. “We’ll get you sorted with new clothes and you can debrief us on the plane back to London.”   
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Semi-clean and clad in a drab olive nurses uniform, her own boots and socks, and still Steve’s jacket, Darcy and the other commando’s sat in the back of a small plane that was to take them back to the Allies headquarters back in London. Steve and Bucky and Agent Carter and some old guy were all in the front talking about her. They were the first of the rescued 107th Infantry Regiment to leave Austria behind. The plane was tiny and the notable players in history on it made it all feel very VIP. 

As soon as they had taken off the Commando’s created a huddle around her. 

“Hey kid,” Dugan began with a pat on her knee, “We’ve been talking.” 

“About how much beer you’re going to drink once you get back to civilization? I know, I’ve been listening.” She said flippantly. 

“No.” Morita said with sobering expression, “We’re serious.” His eyes skittered to the front where Peggy and the old guy were going to toe to toe with Steve and Bucky in a heated but hushed exchange. 

“We believe you.” Dugan said, bringing her attention back to the boys around her. “We do.” 

“I know.” She said patting the messenger bag that had not left her side. “Not now that I have proof.” 

“We talked about your proof.” Jones told her, gesturing to the bag with his head, “And if it’s as convincing as Morita and Dum Dum think it is, we have some concerns.”

“What kind of concerns?” 

“Le monde finissant gentil, ma chère.” Derier said as he puffed casually from a cigarette. 

She looked to Jones for a translation, as he was the translator of the group, but the answer came from the British Falsworth instead. 

“We don’t think you should say anything about where you’re really from.” He advised her quietly. “The kind of information you have, if it fell into the wrong hands…”

She had contemplated the same thing, but had ultimately come to the conclusion of, “What choice do I have?” 

“You could choose carefully.” Falseworth said. “Of who you tell your real story to. And who you tell a cover story.” 

“How could I explain everything…being in the middle nowhere, ending up with Hydra—I’ll get locked up for sure!”

“Shh.” Dugan hushed, his eyes filled with concern as he eyed Carter and the old guy. 

“Kidnapped.” Dernier said in heavily accented English. With a wave his hand he added,   
“Say ‘ou were kidnapped.”

“For your technology.” Morita said with nod. “Technology you feared would be used by evil men to commit atrocities.”

Jones took up the story, elaborating on this cover-story the guys had obviously cooked up in her brief absence. “And the wrong people found you, and they tried to take it from you. But you held out. You kept this tech out of Hydra hands and were willing to die to do so.” 

“Which was very brave,” Dugan complimented with a gentle pat on the back, “And also true. So it should be easy to remember and work in favor.”

“I didn’t--” She tried to protest but Morita wasn’t having it.

“Didn’t you?” He questioned.

“But that wasn’t--” She tried again. 

Morita was insistent. “If Zola demanded you give up the location of your tech or die. Would you have?” 

“I…” She was a little shocked by what they were saying, but she understood where they were coming from. She’d thought the same things. She’d weighed the risk and chosen herself, her own self-preservation over the fate of the world. And here were these guys, who were fighting a just war, who put their lives at risk and were willing to continue to do so even though they knew she could probably end it by handing over her tech to someone like Stark. 

The advantage that would come from such a leap in technology, it would end the war. Quickly, if Howard Stark was a smart as the history books said. She knew this and yet she told the Howling Commando’s the truth. She needed to have someone on her side, to know the truth or she would go crazy, so she told them. And Bucky. And Steve.

“I probably would have.” She confessed shamefully. “I don’t want to die. So if it was fuck the world or die for it, I would--”

“Bullshit.” Dugan practically growled. “You wouldn’t have.” 

“You don’t know me.” She insisted. “I’m not brave, not like you guys or--” 

“You’re brave.” Morita told her, and it was instinct to list the reasons why he was wrong on that account, but she held her tongue. 

“You killed that arsehole Lohmer.” Falseworth reminded her. 

“You did it to defend Barnes.” Jones said gesturing to the man in question with his head. Her eyes flickered over to Bucky and she couldn’t deny what they said, but still didn’t feel right.

“You gave yourself up when we were ready to fight for you.” Morita said, a little bit of hero worship in his eyes as he stared at her. The attention and compliments had her fidgeting and pulling at her collar and then the sleeves of the jacket. 

“You’ve got grit.” Dugan said tenderly. 

“That was—those were extenuating circumstances.” She tried to explain.

Dugan slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. It made her shoulders twinge with pain but emotionally she craved the closeness and leaned into the conatct. “That’s what bravery is kid. Being piss your pants scared and doing something anyway.” 

Raised voices at the front of the plane silenced the group. But Agent Carter quickly got the three men back in line and speaking in low voices as to not be overheard.

“Barnes and Rogers are explaining the story we’ve come up with to Colonel Phillips now. Trying to get you out of an official debrief and off their radar as a suspected Hydra..treacherer.” Morita explained, smirking at the not a real word.

She pouted at being lightly teased for her early flub with Agent Carter. “They won’t buy it.” 

“Maybe,” Falseworth acknowledged, “But I think your underestimating Barnes indignant ire.”

“And Roger’s got that whole Captain America wholesome honest bullshit thing going for him.” Dugan said with a nod. 

“They’ll convince them.” Jones said like he was 100% confident. And Darcy just didn’t understand that. These guys were insane. 

“How do I explain like, everything about me? The way I talk, the way I…how I am. Who I am. I can’t—I can’t hide that. I know I’m not that good of an actress.”

“Some people are weird.” Dugan scoffed. “And you’re pretty. When you’re pretty it’s easy to excuse a little weirdness.” 

Jones slapped Dugan on the arm reproachfully but he didn’t seem bothered. And really neither was she. Dugan spoke the truth about the ‘pretty privilege’, but usually Darcy had to wear low cut tops to take advantage of it. 

“You’re quick on your feet, you’ve proven that.” Falseworth said. “I’m sure you can improvise well enough to deflect the suspicion surrounding your unexpected appearance at the facility. And the trauma of being kidnapped and assaulted by Hydra will help explain away the rest.” 

“And amnesia.” Morita insisted, “We told them you had amnesia.” 

“And us.” Dernier grinned, the tip of his cigarette clenched in his teeth.

Falsworth reached out and gave her knee a brief pat. “Yes, you have us to corroborate your story.” Jones, Morita, Dernier, they all nodded in agreement. 

“We’ll help keep your secret.” Dugan whispered into her ear. And she believed him. All of them. And she was moved by this. Their plan to keep her safe and keep the world safe from the things she knew and what she’d brought with her. And while she wasn’t close to tears, she could have been if she wasn’t so damn relieved when Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan pressed a kiss into her hair before assuring her, “We’ll keep you safe.” 

In all honestly she had been terrified of trusting the military brass with the truth. In general she did not trust that people were inherently good and would do the right thing when it came to the important stuff. And revealing who she was and when she was from, it was an even shitter option given that she knew for a fact that the SSR and SHIELD after it would be infiltrated by Hydra after it’s supposed dissolution. 

But she had committed to her path and thought there was no going back. 

“Thank you.” She said softly, making sure to look each and every man in the eyes. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you for believing in me. I think you’re right. I was foolish to trust all of you, but not at the same time because you guys go down in history as good men. Decent, just men. And trusting you is the right thing. But not everyone is like you, and I know that too.” 

“Barnes and Rogers are on your side too.” Dugan reminded her. 

“I know.” 

At that moment Bucky turned back to look at her over his shoulder. She felt exhausted physically and emotionally, but she popped up like a daisy to give him a enthusiastic thumbs up and exaggerated wink, hopefully telegraphing that she was in on the plan to keep her mouth shut.

Bucky’s resulting laugh was worth the effort.

As he was drawn back into his serious conversation she let herself deflate and rested her head on Dugan’s shoulder. She was tired. The flight from Austria back to London was going to take at least four hours. She should rest while she could. She would be ‘debriefed’ in some way. There was no escaping that. Going in rested could only help her handle the performance. 

“So,” She prompted as she closed her eyes, “Tell me more about the story you guys have concocted.” 

“Well,” Morita began, “Remember your music player? It gave me an idea.”  
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“And then Steve arrived and it was like I heard of choir of angels start singing. He rescued us in efficient and very manly fashion. I retrieved my experimental music player and other belongings from where I’d hidden them in the woods so it wouldn’t fall into Hydra’s evil clutches and then rejoined the 107th on their badass victory strut back into camp. Annnnd. I think that’s everything.” Darcy finished explaining the cover story the Commando’s had come up with a hopefully charming but not overly smoozy smile. 

“I’d hardly call that everything.” Peggy muttered under her breath as she finished transcribing what she’d been saying. They were in a legit interrogation room, Peggy had pushed for it once they’d landed in London and Colonel Philips agreed. Bucky and Dugan had been loud about their objections on treating her like a criminal, but Peggy pointed out that if she had nothing to hide there was nothing to fear.

Right before entering the intimidating room, Steve told her that Colonel Phillips was a hard man, but fair. And not to be nervous. 

His advice had helped. She’d told Phillips and Peggy the story of her time with Hydra sparing none of the gruesome details of her detention. By shedding a few tears at strategic moments and then soldiering through the tale she’d played the part of vulnerable but plucky survivor pretty well. And after showing off her ipod, the only piece of future tech she was going to reveal to the military under the guise of claiming to have invented it and it being “broken”, aka not charged, she seemed to have convinced the ever serious-faced Colonel Phillips that she was not a nefarious Hydra plant. 

But Agent Carter didn’t fall for the shtick half as easily. Not even with all the guys corroborating her account. 

“I think that’s enough for now.” Phillips concluded with a nod. She was surprised by the empathy on his face as he said, “Thank you for your candor regard Zola and his experiments. I’m sorry for what you’ve had to endure ma’am and I appreciate your willingness to collaborate with our people in the Strategic Scientific Reserve. We hope with our medical resources the rest of your memory can be returned so we can help you get home.” 

“Thank you Colonel.” She gave the man a salute and a grin, “I mean, I don’t how or if my sound storing technology will help you, but even without my full memory I know if there was nothing in it for me, I’d still be willing to do whatever I can to help take down those fucking evil Nazi bastards.” 

Phillips visibly flinched at her use of foul language, but didn’t mention it. Which was nice of him she thought. “Well,” He gestured over to Peggy as he got up from the table they’d sitting at for the past hour. “Carter will show you to the work room and introduce you to Stark. He’ll see if what you’ve got has any military value and put you to work.” He then addressed the woman herself, “After, scoop up Rogers and then find me in the map room, we’ll go over what he saw of Hydra’s locations and plan our next move accordingly.” 

A little thrill went through Darcy, because she knew the Howling Commando’s were about to be official formed and soon after named. It was exciting witnessing these moments in history. But quickly her elation turned to dread. If she remembered correctly, Steve and his men had a quick turnaround after his initial splashy rescue of the 107th. Soon they would be back out the road kicking Hydra ass and destroying evil weapons manufacturing facilities, making a name for themselves. 

And that meant they would be leaving her behind.

“Have a good day.” Phillips said in parting. And then he was gone and she was left alone in an empty room with Peggy Carter. 

Not wanting to dwell on the negative, she stepped into the familiar shoes of the fool. Turning to Peggy she smiled warmly and was met with a reserved cool gaze but she didn’t let it deter her from lightening the mood. “So, Colonel Phillips, kind of a secretly a teddy bear type, huh? Don’t you think?” 

“That’s not how most would describe him.” Peggy said politely as she straightened her papers and capped her pen. 

She felt like if she didn’t take advantage of the moment her chance to befriend Peggy would be lost. Letting the artifice drop from her person completely she asked, “You don’t believe my story do you?”

It was very obvious, Carter in no way believed the soap opera bullshit she was peddling. Peggy looked at her expressionless. “You were tortured. I’ve seen the evidence on your body, and there were many witnesses to your bravery in the factory.” 

“I maintain that what everyone is calling bravery was in fact panic that only turned out well because of luck and Steve’s timely arrival.” 

Peggy tilted her head and a bit of warmth showed through her voice as she asked. “You really believe that don’t you?” 

“I am not a brave woman Agent Carter,” She said half being honest, half trying to reassure her of her innocence. “I’m not awesome or skilled or basically any of things that you are. Which is why I think you don’t like me, even though you don’t know me.” 

“Is it important to you that I like you?” 

“Yes.” Darcy revealed. “Very important.” 

“Then why are you lying to me?” Peggy proposed with challenging smile. 

“To save the world.” She said, somehow with a straight face.

Peggy scoffed, “Honestly.” 

She knew keeping the truth close to the vest was the smart play but like she had told the Commando’s earlier, she’d chosen well. She knew who was good and bad, she had the historical cheat sheet. Peggy Carter was more than worthy of being her ally. She knew she was trustworthy. And more than that, she wanted to her. She needed to. Because she was a woman. Because she was awesome. And because soon Captain America and the Howling Commando’s would be deployed in the battle field. And she would be on her own. 

Unless she did the exact opposite of what she and the Commando’s decided she should do. 

“Do you want to know the truth?” She asked knowing the answer. 

“The truth about what?” Peggy prompted. “You convenient memory loss? How you’ve enthralled the men with your damsel in distress act? Or the fact that you’re kidnapping story is as thin as a piece of paper.” 

“About who I am and when I come from.” Peggy leaned in, her eyes narrowing at her odd phrasing, but she said nothing so Darcy kept talking. “I was visiting my friend Thor with my boss Jane—ya know, I should preface this explanation by saying you won’t believe me, logic is going to tell you not to believe me, but know that I have proof of what I’m about to say. Physical and tangible proof.” 

Peggy rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair crossing her arms. “Please consider the suspense adequately built and get on with it.” 

“I was vacationing on an alien planet, ran into a monster that can travel through time and got stuck here in 1940-whatever year it is I’m actually not sure but I’m from the year 2013.” 

Dry as a piece of toast Peggy responded, “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

Reaching into the bag she pulled out her laptop. “I guess it’s a good thing I still have 43% percent battery life left then.”   
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What Darcy is wearing after getting ‘cleaned up’  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, any predictions? On Darcy telling Howard Stark her true origins and revealing the big secret and showing off her future tech? Cuz, I'm not sure yet....  
> Also, just to reassure people, Dugan/Darcy is totally bro/sis father/daughter type relationship in my head now. Also, be aware that even though Dugan's got a good heart and he's a capable soldier, his personality is of a meathead. And I love him. He's my big dumb jock. 
> 
> Also, out of curiosity are you guys googling the french or just skipping it?


	8. Howard Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Black Friday Weekend...here comes Howard!

Chapter 8 – Howard Stark 

Bucky waited anxiously outside the interrogation room for Darcy’s interview with Colonel Phillips and Carter to be over. He was worried she wouldn’t be able to sell the story they’d come up with. Officially he was there to escort her to the local pub where the rest of the guys were going to reconvene after cleaning up and grabbing some grub from the mess hall. But in truth, he just wanted to see her and talk to her alone. His crush on her was undeniable now, at least to himself, and it had him tapping his fingers and checking the clock every couple of seconds. 

By all accounts he’d screwed up big time and had no idea how he was going to get her to forgive him, but then again she had made a point of saying that she didn’t blame him for not believing her outrageous story. But he knew he’d disappointed her. And it burned him up inside that a fat head like Dum Dum Dugan had faith in her when he didn’t. Morita too. 

Sensing his vexation Steve had offered to join him in his vigil, but he’d waved him off because while he was nervous to be around Darcy after being proven wrong he was also excited. Once his fellow soldiers confirmed her story to be true something just clicked into place for him. She wasn’t crazy, she wasn’t a spy she was _impossible_. Back home women had a history of falling at his feet, but the girls he’d dated before couldn’t compare to Darcy. She was a wholly unique and alluring woman. She was a one in a million kind of woman. And the odds of them meeting was one in a billion.

He didn’t want to miss his chance to be with her. Even if believing in her had him questioning everything about the world he knew and more importantly his place in it. 

“Sergeant?” Phillips’s voice had him straightening up out of instinct. Lost in thought about Darcy, he’d missed the man exiting the room. Phillips eyes narrowed as he questioned, “What are you doing here?” 

“Uh…” His eyes flickered to the closed door behind the man. 

“Waiting on Miss Lewis?” Phillips deduced. Before he could even confirm the man’s suspicion the older man was genially rolling his eyes with a long frown on a face. “She’s finishing up with Carter; she’ll be out in a minute.” 

As he started to walk away he heard the man muttering to himself, “Hormonal children, the lot of them.”

He waited fifteen minutes before knocking on the door and opening it without waiting for a reply to his question of, “Is everything alright in--?” The women were sitting at the table and staring at something that was sleek and silver and casting a glowing light onto their faces. 

“Here?” He finished lamely. 

“Perfect timing.” Carter said with a smirk, “Why don’t you show Sergeant Barnes this rubbish? Hmm?”

Darcy closed the lid of her silver machine. “Well, now you’re just being mean.” 

“Doll!” It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going on. He quickly checked the hallway to make sure no one else was lurking or listening in before hurrying inside the room and shutting the door soundly behind him. Exasperated he joined them inside and shut the door behind him. He couldn’t keep the accusation out of his voice, “You told her?”

“Well, yeah.” Darcy said with not a touch of regret. 

“But we agreed--!”

She cut him off quickly, “We did not agree. You guys got together and made a suggestion.” 

“Suggestion!?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for this nonsense Sergeant Barnes?” Peggy asked with a raised brow. “I didn’t think a resilient soldier like yourself would so easily swayed by a pretty face and an insane story.” 

Darcy looked at the woman with her mouth agape and gestured to the slim machine in front of her, “But—but, my proof!” 

“It’s a very good trick, I’ll admit I have no idea how you’ve done it—but as far as I’m concerned all this proves is that you lied to Colonel Phillips about who you are.” 

“Fuck.” Bucky cursed under his breath as he realized Carter didn’t believe Darcy’s story. Even when she was face to face with so called tangible irrefutable proof. He fixed his eyes on Darcy’s machine. “I thought you said the stuff in your bag would be convincing.” 

“It fucking should be.” Darcy exclaimed, she sent Carter a glare, “Agent Carter is just weird.” 

“I beg your pardon.” The other woman said sounding offended.

“You heard me. You’re weird. I’m showing you proof of the future in Technicolor. And you’re all like” Darcy mimed picking up a teacup and affected a poor British accent, “Oh, fiddlestick to your advanced technology that clearly proves your from the future. I’m a British badass boss bitch and I like eating scones and refuting ideas that don’t conform to my perception of reality.” Darcy mimed taking slurping sip from her invisible teacup then slammed it onto the table. 

Unruffled by Darcy’s mockery Carter turned to him and asked, “Do you really believe her story?”

He and Darcy exchanged a charged look before he answered Carter. “I didn’t.” He moved closer until he was standing just over Darcy’s shoulder. “But I do now.” 

“Yeah, so suck it!” Darcy cheered.

He let his hand fall onto her shoulder heavily and muttered quietly, “Not helping.” 

“Sorry.” She grumbled.

“You really think some machine which shows odd pictures and cat films is proof of time travel?” Carter asked. 

“Cat what?” Bucky asked, completely lost. 

From his position behind her he could see the tips of Darcy’s ears going red as she replied, “Who doesn’t like funny cat videos?” 

“She hasn’t shown you?” Carter asked, astutely putting together the pieces of his and Darcy’s dynamic. “Her so called ‘proof’.”

“She showed M—“ He quickly clammed up as he realized he was about to implicate the other men in their cover-up. If things with Darcy went south he wanted to be by her side, but the others didn’t need to. “No. She hasn’t shown me proof yet, but I believe her.” 

Peggy tapped on the machine, “Come on then. Show him.”

Sliding the machine closer to her chest Darcy demurred, “I’d rather not.”

“Doll?” He had no idea what was going on. He thought Dugan and Morita’s word was good enough, that all doubt about her identity had been extinguished, but Carter’s skepticism was rekindling his own. 

Darcy let out an unattractive noise and grumbled “Fine.” 

She opened up her machine and the rectangle glowed with vibrant colored pictures. He noted how the keyboard attached was unlike any he’d ever seen before. “What is this?” 

“It’s my laptop.” Her fingers set about clicking and the pictures of her and other people he didn’t’ recognize was obscured by a large black rectangle. She turned and met his eyes. “I just thought I’d start her off with something light and fluffy to ease her into the hard-to-believe-ness of it all. Do not judge me.”

And then she hit a button and a film started playing [playing](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ad/20/98/ad20987e7c3e0b3d817d87812a0f3d2c.gif). He watched as a white cat batted at objects with it’s paws knocking things off a desk. The technology before him was far beyond anything they had, he could recognize that easily, and in a way it was very impressive. But still, Darcy’s choice in evidence left a lot to be desired. In a flat voice he said, “It’s a cat.”

With a giggle Darcy pointed out, “And he’s cursing, see. Read the text.”

“I’ve had enough.” Carter declared as she got to her feet, “We need to take her to Colonel Phillips.” 

“No.” Bucky said automatically. “She’s--”

“Stark!” Darcy exclaimed jumping to her feet. She grabbed Carters arm and got a look from the woman, quickly removing her hand Darcy set about closing her machine and packing it away in her bag as she spoke. “You guys don’t get how awesome my stuff is, but he will. We should go show the expert--”

“No.” He put his hand on her arm trying to still her movements but she just ignored him. “Dollface, we can’t—you haven’t even convinced Carter not to turn you in and you want to involve Howard Stark?” 

“She’s not going to turn me in.” Darcy replied with confidence.

“Oh yes I will.” Carter countered. 

Darcy just grinned at the woman, “Then do it.”

“Darcy.” He said warningly, but she paid him no heed.

“I can’t do this without you on my side Peggy, so if you really think the worst of me, leave the room now and go tattle.” Darcy said, the challenge in her voice was clear and he did not understand her antagonism at all but in that moment he felt a profound sense of déjà vu. “Go on Peggy, go get your boss and turn me in for…what exactly. Secret awesomeness? Blowing your mind? Challenging the laws of physics?!” 

“You should not underestimate me.” Carter warned. 

“I’m not, I’m totally estimating you.” Darcy words caused a brief look of confusion on Carters face, but the more she talked the more he understood her strategy. “You’re amazing, you go down in history as a female icon and a badass. A woman worthy of being Captain America’s tragic lady love.”

“You seem to have some of your facts mixed up, Captain Rogers and I--”

“Never get together.” Darcy finished. And for a brief second disappointment flashed across Carters face. “It’s totally tragic and now that I’m here, its avoidable. Steve doesn’t have to die, Bucky doesn’t have to die, or…maybe they do and I change nothing even if I do try and I go home.” 

“You don’t make any sense.” Carter accused, but her voice was softer now.

“I know.” Darcy conceded, “But that’s because I’m trying to think ten steps ahead and live in moment while not forgetting I’m from the future with knowledge of a past which is my present but could result in a different future, all at once.” After a beat she added, “Okay, what I just said confused even me.” 

That got a smile out of Carter and a chuckle from himself. “Dollface, you sure don’t make things easy for a skeptic.”

Turning to look at him he was taken aback by the sadness written across her features. “None of this is going to be easy.” 

He wanted to offer her comfort, but just as he reached out she turned away from him and back to Carter. She took up Carters hand and covered it with her own. “Please Peggy, I know that if you really thought I was a threat you would have already turned me in. Bucky too. But you haven’t. You’ve stayed in this room and listened to me ramble and I know it’s because you know, that you can trust me.” 

Carter pulled her hand out of Darcy’s grasp. “I know nothing of the sort.”

“Part of me wants to run around this place screaming about who I am and where I’m from in the hopes that someone will be able to help me. But that’s the dumb move. Playing conservatively? That’s smart. That’s what the guys said I should do, but…they don’t know what comes next. I do.”

Gripping her shoulders he turned Darcy so she was facing him, “What do you mean Dollface?” 

“I’m not a hero. I’m not action girl. I’m not going back into the battlefield if I can help it.” 

“So?” He asked. 

She smiled at him sadly and reached out to cup his face. He leaned into her touch and savored it. And then she was pulling away and stepping back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Carter. “So, do you really think you’re going to let Steve run head first into danger alone?” 

Before he could process what she had said, Darcy turned to Carter and implored, “Please Peggy take me to Howard Stark so he can look at my stuff and verify everything I’ve told you. If Stark can’t convince you based on my advanced technology, nothing will.” 

Carter stared Darcy down for a few seconds before nodding. “Alright.” 

“Good.” 

“But if what you’re saying is true,” Peggy started. 

“It is.” Darcy interrupted, earning an annoyed glare from Carter. 

“ _If_ it is, then I agree with Sergeant Barnes and his suggestion of caution. If you really know as much as you claim to, to divulge those secrets would be to sow chaos.” 

“Um, okay.” Darcy agreed easily.

“So I will go and bring Howard to you.” Carter told her. “Here.” 

Darcy looked around at the drab interrogation room. “Really? Here? But the place is so blah.” She gently kicked at the leg of chair and added petulantly, “And the chairs are uncomfortable.” 

Carters lips tipped up in amusement. “Better here where we can be assured no other ears are listening.” 

“Fine.” 

Carter gave him a pointed look, “I will hold you accountable if she leaves this room before I return.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” With a nod of approval, Carter left. And he was truly alone with Darcy for the first time…ever.  
.  
.  
.  
“So.” He began once they were alone, “What did you mean about Steve running into danger alone? He going somewhere?”

“You all are.” Darcy answered as she sat atop the table and rested her feet on the seat of the chair she showed distain for earlier. “You Dugan, Morita, Jones, Dernier, Falsworth. All of you.” 

“Where we going?” 

“To kick ass.”

That made him smile. “Is that so?” 

“You become known as ‘Captain America and the Howling Commando’s’.” She grinned at him, “There’s even a museum exhibit about it and everything.” 

The idea of fame threw his head for a loop. “Uh,…I don’t know what to say.” 

Darcy’s face transformed into something unfamiliar. He only belatedly realized it was seriousness. “Ask me about the cutting off of your arm and Hydra assassin thing. I know you haven’t forgotten what I said to you after we escaped.”

“What?”

“Ask me how you die. How you’re resurrected and transformed into a murder puppet.” She prompted with a hint of desperation. “Ask me how to prevent it.” 

“I would never work for Hydra.” He denied automatically. 

“Not of your own free will.” She acknowledged. “There was, before I went on vacation with Thor, there was this big…incident in Washington DC. I won’t get into the details, mainly because I don’t know them, but it resulted in some spectacular evil shenanigans getting revealed and this huge info dump going worldwide. A lot of what Hydra did to you got leaked and..and it was some seriously horrific shit” 

He let that sit in his mind, but the idea was so big that it was hard to fully comprehend. 

The idea that his fate was set in stone went against everything he learned in Sunday school about God and humanity and free will. The idea that he was meant to become a weapon of Hydra to be used against his friends, it was unthinkable. He wanted to fight his fate with every fiber of his being, but at the same time he didn’t believe such a thing existed. Fate, destiny, that wasn’t real life. Then again, a few days ago he would have said the same thing about the possibility of Steve’s physical transformation or time travel. It was all so…much. Too much maybe. 

He couldn’t think about it without spiraling into a web of tangled thoughts, implications, speculation, predictions, and worry. So he decided to focus a more manageable idea. “Which arm?” 

Incredulous she spat out, “What?” 

“Which arm get’s cut off?” He repeated, his tone light. 

“That’s what you want to know!?” She exclaimed as she hopped off the table and stalked towards him. “Not about getting captured or mind fucked or being a prisoner of war for the next 70 years, but which fucking arm you lose?!”

He shrugged. It was all he could handle at the moment. 

“Dude!” She grabbed his lapels and shook him, “What is wrong with you!?” 

He put his hands over hers and stared at her heaving chest so he could avoid the accusation in her eyes. She was so worked up. And all he could do was smile because he knew it meant she cared. 

“Left or right?” He asked just to get her goat. She let out a noise of frustration and opened her mouth to berate him, probably, but he didn’t give her the chance. 

Wrapping his arms around her back he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers, stifling her words before they could even form. Her lips were cold but soft and he let his tongue swipe out to wet them then pressed his lips against hers firmly. 

Her hands remained clutching his lapel and trapped between them and he was pleased she didn’t try to pull away or protest. He tilted his head to the left slightly, changing the angle of the kiss and when she opened her mouth he could have whooped in joy. 

He slid his tongue in her mouth and she let out the most attractive moan. He couldn’t help but smile victoriously as she kissed him back and melted into his embrace. Kissing her…the war, Steve’s transformation, his captivity and torture, his supposed tragic future, her future-ness, how incompatible they were in so many ways…kissing her made all of that background noise in his head. Not worthy of further inspection when he had this gorgeous and responsive woman in his arms and eager for his attention. 

He learned quickly she was passionate. Stepping up on top of his feet Darcy let her hands slide up his chest only to wind her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer and alleviating the strain on his neck caused by their height difference. In response he let his hands slip underneath her jacket and when he touched the starchy fabric of the nurse’s uniform she wore underneath he let out a noise of appreciation because he could feel the body heat radiating off her skin even through the thin fabric. And it warmed him. She warmed him inside and out with her very presence. With every touch. 

“Bad idea.” She mumbled against his lips as she kissed him harder, “This is such a bad idea.” 

He pulled back and smirked at her knowingly. “You want to stop?” 

With mock aggression she growled, “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

And then she pulled him back to her. He laughed into the kiss and let his hands slide down to her backside. Darcy took this as some kind of cue and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. The weight of her in his arms felt solid and grounding, even if the surprise of the move had him stumbling back into the wall. 

“Too much?” Darcy asked in between kisses.

“No.” He reassured her before sucking on her lower lip briefly. “No I want more.” 

He kissed her lips hard before gentling the action, he let his lips drift away from hers, across her cheek then under her jaw, he pressed a kiss to her earlobe which made her laugh and him smile smugly into her skin. 

The feeling of her carding her fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp was intoxicating and surprisingly erotic. She was a gorgeous woman, maybe not a conventional beauty, but Darcy had an allure and a charm that he found irresistible. She let out the most delightful gasp as he moved to kiss down the delicate skin at her neck. He let his eyes flicker up to her face and found her with her head thrown back and her eyes closed tightly and instantly he pictured them naked in bed together.

When her hands briefly left him he looked up, afraid she was about to put an end to this brief moment of bliss, but she merely grinned at him as she slipped out of the sleeves of Steve’s oversized jacket and let the leather fall to the floor with a plop. He kissed her lips and she eagerly welcomed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders once again. 

He wished he could explain to her how he felt seeing her strip free of some other’s man’s jacket and how much he wanted her to wear something of _his_. And even though he doubted she’d appreciate his primal yearning to stake his claim on her body, in the back of his mind he cycled through his belongings trying to figure out what he could give to her. He didn’t bring much with him from back home that would make a suitable ‘souvenir’, not that he had much to begin with. Thus far, the army had provided everything that he needed, but now that he had such a beautifully impossible woman in his arms…he wanted to give her something that she could look at and think of him. 

Keeping tight hold of Darcy’s behind he walked forward until his thighs banged into the table. 

“Careful,” She said letting out a tinkling laugh. He merely smiled against her lips as he set her down on the table top and let his hands quickly slide up her torso and bust until they reached her face. He cupped her cheeks and angled her head upward so he could control the kiss. 

He liked that Darcy was no passive flower; she invited him ever closer as she took off her hat and threw it across the room and then undid the top two buttons of her dress. He loved her hair and he eagerly threaded his fingers into her dark locks as soon as they were free. The hair close to her head was damp with sweat. “I making ya hot?” 

Her answer was a throaty laugh and to pull him back into a kiss. When she kissed him it was with a burning passion that matched his own, a feat he hadn’t experienced before. With girls before he’d never felt this kind of intensity or lust. They just felt so in sync. 

He loved that her hands weren’t idle either, they were constantly touching him, feeling, groping, pulling, and now toying with the ends of his ratty sweater. He wished he wore something nicer, a glance down confirmed that Darcy was idly winding a loose thread around her finger pulling the thing undone.

He was always one to put in an effort when he pursued a dame. He’d make sure his nails were clean, that he smelled alright, got his hair looking good. It irked him that he knew he was not at his best right now. With the escape and the plane ride and Darcy’s interrogation, he’d only had the opportunity to give himself a brisk wash down since his confinement. But he supposed except for the borrowed dress, the same could be said for Darcy. 

She didn’t seem to mind though. 

The insistent pulling on his shirt ceased as she slid her clever hands underneath the dirty garment seeking flesh. The exploratory nature of her touch had him shivering and his stomach muscles contracting underneath her fingertips. 

“Mmmm.” She groaned before leaning back and breaking the kiss, lifting his sweater higher she took a moment to appreciate his chest. “Yummy.” 

She was so different than any other girl he’d been with. Freer, more bold. It was inspiring. Letting go of his inhibitions he pressed his nose to the nape of her neck and inhaled deeply. She smelled like sweat and dirt and blood, but he didn’t care, he wanted to lick her clean. Attaching his mouth to her neck he kissed and nibbled and suckled the skin there hoping to leave a mark. 

She let out a laugh and whispered playfully in his ear, “Are you trying to give me a souvenir to remember you by?” 

He was about to reply or kiss her again or something more salacious, when the doorknob rattled before opening. 

Darcy actually put her foot on his stomach and pushed him away from her before hopping off the table and scrambling to face the wall while she fixed the buttons on her dress and tried to tame her hair. Panting, couldn’t help but glare at their intruders.

He tried to control his face and not show how embarrassed he really was at having been caught, because there was no mistaking what they had been doing and Agent Carter and Stark instantly seem to recognize that. 

The man in the suspenders smirked at Darcy’s back, “Well, well, well.” He turned to Carter and raised his brow at her, “Just what kind of party have you invited me to Peg?” 

Darcy answered with cheek. “An orgy of course. So shut the door behind you, take off your pants, and let’s get weird.” 

Stark’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. He looked over at Carter with a dimly hopeful expression. “I like the way this dame thinks.” 

“Miss Lewis.” Carter reprimanded as she ushered Stark further into the room and closed the door. 

“Okay, no orgy.” Darcy said as she retrieved her hat from the ground and pulled it on. She looked over at Carter as she took a seat at the interrogation table, “Did you tell him?” 

“No.” 

Darcy’s eyes looked over Stark from head to toe, and the man did the same to her. Bucky tried not to feel intimidated, because there was a blush rising on Darcy’s cheeks and he was pretty sure Starks roving eyes on her body is what put it there.

“Doll?” He prompted. 

His voice had Darcy shaking her head and moving over to the table muttering under her breath, “Probably for the best.” Idly he wondered what she meant by that as he watched her get out her bag and retrieve the machine from earlier. 

“What's this?” Howard asked looking intrigued as he snagged a chair and pushed it flush with Darcy’s. However it was the overly familiar arm around the back of her chair that caught Bucky's interest, and set his teeth on edge. 

“Peg said something about some new tech?” Stark prompted as he leaned in close invading Darcy’s personal space under the guise of getting a closer look at what she was doing. He gave her a smarmy grin when he asked, “You invented this sweetheart?” 

The man sounded skeptical and Bucky was offended upon Darcy's behalf. In his opinion the idea of her being a brilliant inventor wasn't impossible and it was nothing to scoff at. However the man's reputation as a ladies man and the way he was all over Darcy right then was maybe the real culprit behind his aggressive tone and glower, "It's a laptop." 

“A laptop?” Stark echoed, he seemed oblivious to the pointed glare he was receiving from the other male in the room. Bucky couldn't look away from the man's arm around the back of Darcy's chair. It really was presumptuous of him, he wondered if he should warn him off of let Darcy address it. 

Darcy threw him a grin over her shoulder, “So cute how you say that like you have any idea what that means.”

He brightened at her attention, but she was quick to turn back to her machine, her fingers dancing across the keys. He moved to stand just over her shoulder and glared at Howard's arm around the back of her chair, but neither seemed to notice. Howard and Darcy were so close to each other that their thighs were touching. Didn't she feel it? Didn't it bother her? He couldn't help but wonder if she was afraid to say something about the other man's closeness, she was after all pinning a lot of her hopes on Carter and Stark. Maybe she wasn't afraid, but too polite? Or maybe she wanted him to step in and say something? 

He didn't know why their closeness bothered him so much, but it did. And since he couldn't read Darcy's mind and didn't know how she felt about having another man pressed up against her, he said nothing. Did nothing. Just stood behind her back stoically and glared hoping the other man would catch the hint.

Carter shifted to stand side by side with him, taking up the space behind Howard. To his relief at least Carter recognized the inappropriate way Stark was acting. She slapped the man's arm of the back of Darcy's chair and ordered exasperatedly, "Move over Howard, let the girl breathe.” 

Disgruntled Stark shifted away from her slightly and made a show of crossing his arms over his chest. Darcy for her part, seemed unaffected by the exchange, neither relieved or disappointed. Bucky was quick to rest his hands on the back of Darcy's chair so the man would not forget himself again. In silence, they all watched as the sleek machine seemed to come to life. However, he was not prepared for what he was about to see. 

“What the hell?” Bucky exclaimed as [naked men](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/fb/4c/ee/fb4cee623ed77e9bd5c80663d73f53c4.jpg) filled the glowing screen.

“Okay, now I’m confused, _is_ this a sex thing?” Howard questioned, turning in his seat to address Carter. 

Darcy’s only answer was to laugh under her breath as she typed something in on the keyboard causing the screen to change back to the collage of pictures he’d seen before. Once that happened Stark leaned away from Darcy and looked her up and down, well, as much as he could from their seated position. And at once he felt relieved and anxious because he didn’t see lust in Stark’s eyes, he saw awe. 

“Who are you?” Stark asked. 

Darcy turned and stared into the inventors eyes unflinching. She smiled warmly and whispered, “Let me show you.” 

She went back to tapping on her keyboard and on the glowing screen another box came up, this time white and gray with tiny writing, but he could only make out the word ‘itunes’ before his attention was pulled elsewhere. 

“No more cats?” Peggy questioned sounding slightly amused.

“No more cats.” Darcy repeated, her voice was grim though and he mourned the loss of her jovial mood. When she looked at Carter over her shoulder it was clear something had shifted. “I know you don’t believe me yet Peggy, but I’m going to prove it to you.” 

She was back to that bearing of unbecoming seriousness he had witness earlier when she got so heated over his tragic fate. It didn’t fit her personality and he wished they could go back to before they were interrupted, he was so tired of things feeling dire.

“I need you two to trust me.” Darcy said soberly, “I need you,” She touched Starks arm, “In particular to trust me. To believe me, even though what I have to say is insane and sounds impossible and--”

“Are you from the future?” Stark interrupted. 

“What?” Darcy exclaimed, her voice gone squeaky with surprise.

“How could you possibly guess that?” Bucky questioned. 

“Howard.” Carter said reproachfully, but the man just shook his head and continued to speak directly to Darcy. 

“This,” He gestured to Darcy’s machine, “This tech is decades beyond what anyone is capable of today. Just the keyboard to screen interface alone. And--” He tapped the courier bag that lay next to the machine, “When you opened up this,” He opened the bag and pointed to the [inner lining](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/75/19/1c/75191c9292feab5431d951dffada04ee.jpg) which featured cartoon versions of Captain America, “I saw this and more importantly, this.” He tapped on one of the tiny shields that the cartoon drawing of his best friend was holding. 

“What does that Frisbee drawing of Steve have to do with her being from the future?” Carter asked.

It was Darcy who answered, “Oh that’s right!” Bucky narrowed his eyes as she gently patted Stark on the shoulder, “You’re the one who makes the vibranium shield.” 

“Vibranium?” Bucky asked for clarification. 

Stark ignored him, only having eyes for Darcy. With a twitch of his mustache the inventor explained, “I finished it today and it’s a prototype. Rogers was supposed to come by the SSR base tomorrow to pick one out, I made him several options.” 

“And the one in that drawing is one of the options?” Carter asked. “Is the design really that distinctive?” 

Stark glanced at the colorful lining of Darcy’s bag, “It’s got a patriotic paint job in the picture, but yeah.” He looked at Darcy, “That’s my work.” 

“But-” Peggy began to protest, but was Darcy’s joyful exclamation.

“Holy shit!” Reaching out she pulled Stark in for a tight squeeze and crowed, “You didn’t guess that I’m from the future! You deduced it! Because you’re a genius! Oh, thank god I’m around smart people again.” Still hugging Stark, Darcy glanced up at him and Carter and added, “No offense.” 

When she pulled back from the embrace she kept her hands on Stark’s shoulders as she proclaimed, “I’m so not equipped to be the Sherlock of this shit. I’m 100% Watson all the way.”

The smile Stark gave Darcy in response had Bucky curling his hands into fists. He could see it plain as day, Stark found Darcy charming. “Tell me your story.” Stark asked with a flirtatious wink, “From the beginning.” 

“Okay.” Finally letting go of Stark’s person Darcy sat back in her chair and took a relieved sign before speaking. “Well, it all started when I went on vacation to Asgard.”

“Asgard?” Stark questioned with a wrinkled brow.

“Oh yes,” Carter piped up, with a smirk. “Tell him about the buff blonde alien god prince.” 

With a few clicks of her keyboard Darcy pointed at the screen and grinned at Howard proudly, “This is Thor. God of thunder, eater of pop tarts, and my number one male bestie.”

“Alien?” Howard said, finally showing some appropriate skepticism. 

“He’s like a thousand years old, he and his brother visited Earth back in Viking times and hid the Tesseract here for safe keeping, early humans just assumed they were gods and started worshiping.” Bucky was surprised and weirdly hurt. Darcy hadn’t told him any of that.

“You claim that your alien god prince..best friend, is responsible for leaving the Tesseract on Earth over a thousand years ago?” Carter asked, all her doubts evident in her tone. 

“Well, no. A thousand years ago he would’ve been a baby.” Her joke made Stark laugh even as the man pressed his face so close to the screen he was nearly nose to nose with it. “I don’t know dates, so don’t expect me to get specific about anything.” 

“What’s your occupation in the future?” Stark asked, only briefly taking his eyes off the screen. 

“I’m the assistant to a brilliant astrophysics.” Darcy answered, putting a hand on Starks arm she jerked him back from the screen and pointed to the only other woman in her photo collage. “That’s Jane.” 

Stark pointed to the blonde man on the screen. “And that’s Thor?” 

“You can’t possibly believe her!” Carter said shrilly. 

“Well, I guess would call that thing he’s holding a hammer.” Stark said flippantly. 

“That’s myeu-muh. He spins it super fast so he can fly and it’s what he uses to call lightning.” Darcy explained excitedly. Bucky understood why she was going gaga over Stark’s instant belief in her story, but every smile she gave the guy felt like a paper cut on his heart. And, he kind of wanted punch Stark in his stupid handsome face. 

“This is absurd.” Carter mumbled under her breath. 

Bucky saw Darcy open her mouth, probably to defend her story and the truth, but Stark beat her to it. “Oh, come on Peg. If you didn’t believe her you wouldn’t have dragged me into it, so stop griping and commit to the insanity.” 

“Aliens? Time travel?” Carter exclaimed, “I brought you in here to shut her down not wind her up!” 

“But, I have proof I was on Asgard.” Darcy defended. 

“More inane pictures?” Carter accused. 

“No.” Darcy denied as she reached inside her bag and produced a sheathed dagger with a jade handle. The sheath was beautiful and when she took the blade out he could see that the metal it was made out of had a unique pattern. She held it up for display, “See?”

“All this proves is that you're armed and dangerous.” Carter criticized making Darcy frown. 

“Can I?” Howard made grabby hands for the weapon and Darcy handed it over. Bucky leaned over her shoulder and snatched up the sheath. It was beautiful to be sure, but while it appeared to have an old world quality to it, Bucky wouldn’t call it proof of alien life.

“Lady Sif gave it to me as souvenir.” Darcy was looking at him expectantly. He wanted to believe everything she was saying, but the bits about aliens was…a lot to swallow. And he'd already swallowed a lot just to make it this far with her. Still, reflexively he smiled at her and she smiled back. Reaching out with his free hand he ran his thumb across her jaw. There was a smug satisfaction in the way she shivered at his touch. 

But then she turned to Stark with an eager expression and his smile melted into a frown. 

Darcy tapped the hilt of the dagger in Howard’s hand explaining, “She told me that it’s made of Uru, which is the same magical metal that Thor’s hammer Myeu-Muh is made out of.” 

“The craftsmanship is like nothing I’ve ever seen,” Stark’s eyes were alight with curiosity and fascination as he muttered to himself. Selfishly Bucky was glad the man seemed more obsessed with the science of it all than the woman who’d brought the object to his attention. Stark traced a finger down the blade, “There’s patterns in the metal that are unnatural fabricated and..I have no idea how this was made.” 

Bucky offered him the sheath and Stark snatched it greedily. 

“I cannot believe you’ve so easily duped them.” Carter berated with her arms crossed. She was glaring at Darcy. “What exactly are you trying to achieve with this ruse?” 

In a calm manner Darcy addressed the other woman, “I get that I’m blowing your mind, but there’s no reason to be hostile.” 

“Hostile? You’re an infiltrator intent on sowing chaos through lies and manipulation.” Carter accused, “Or worse!” 

“Aw, c’mon Peg. This girl is no deadly assassin.” Stark said as he tested the pointy end of the dagger with the end of his finger. He didn’t seem concerned by Carters growing agitation and Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if he was just oblivious or he knew Carter that well. There was a rapport between the two that spoke of familiarity, but to what extent he had no idea.

“Hydra was smart to send you.” Carter continued, “Pretty face, crazy story, damsel in distress, who wouldn’t fall for it.” 

“Hey,” Darcy said loudly, “I’m half Jewish. I am not a fucking Nazi.” 

“First you endeared your self to Sergeant Barnes, then Dugan and his friends, Captain Rogers. I witnessed first hand how skillfully you pulled the wool over Colonel Phillips’s eyes with just a few strategic teary words, and now I’ve handed you Howard on a silver platter.” Bucky had to silently acknowledge how plausible Carters accusations sounded. He didn't believe any of it, of course, but it sounded very rational. 

No one moved but Darcy. Turning her back on Carter Darcy tapped at her keyboard and the screen on her machine went dark. As she closed the lid and stowed it away in her bag it was clear to him that she was buying time and trying to keep her cool, he’d seen Steve do much the same too many times to count. However, just like with Steve, once her distraction task was done she got to her feet and stared down Agent Carter looking like she was ready to go down swinging. 

There was a dangerous edge in her voice as she addressed the other woman, “Would you have preferred I lied?” 

“You are lying.” Carter accused with venom, but a beat later she spoke in a less confident tone. “You have to be.” 

The slight show of vulnerability did nothing to temper Darcy’s anger. “News flash lady, you thought you knew the cosmic truths that define the universe but it turns out, you don’t know shit.”

“Darce--”

She ignored his warning tone and continued on, the passion building insider her with every word, “I get that it’s hard to admit that you were wrong, but you were, you are. Everyone is. And I know that I’m asking a lot. To accept my story is to look at the universe you know _differently_. And it’s hard, especially considering how fantastical what I’m peddling is, but---” Darcy paused to sigh. She looked at Carter silently for a few seconds then looked down at the ground. She seemed to be collecting herself and when she started speaking again the bite in her tone was gone and instead replaced by something much softer. “Peggy Carter, I assure you I am not lying to you. About any of it.” 

“How can we believe you?” Carter asked quietly. There was earnestness in Darcy’s words that was undeniable, but Bucky recognized that Carter was stubborn and pragmatic like him. 

Stark patted Darcy’s bag, “We don’t have to believe her Peg, we got proof right here.” 

With a shake of her head Carter argued, “Proof can be fabricated.” 

He watched as Darcy’s shoulders slumped and she crossed her arms over her chest defeated. 

“Not proof like this.” Stark argued, waving the dagger in her face. 

“You haven’t even tested it yet.” Darcy pointed out grumpily. “And, she’s right, I could be lying about everything and there’s no amount of cat video’s that will prove otherwise….maybe if Jane were here she’d spout science and make you believe her. Or figure out her own way home so she wouldn’t have to involve anyone else at all, but I’m not—I’m just her sidekick. I was not meant for this epic adventure shit.” 

Stark reached out and put a consoling hand on Darcy’s knee. It surprised him how the small act of sympathy did not inspire jealousy within him. He could see there was a lot of kindness in Stark’s eyes when he said, “Oh c’mon sweetheart don’t give up now. Pull another trick out of that bag of yours and show Peg what’s what. We’ll back you up.”

Stark spared him a glance and Bucky nodded encouraging the man to speak for him. 

The appeal did nothing to improve Darcy’s mood. “I don’t have any more tricks or arguments or…anything. I’m done I’m tired I smell I’m horny I’m trapped and everything sucks. So just..turn me in or whatever. I’m not—there’s no logical reason for anyone to believe in someone like me.” 

Bucky and Stark both turned to look at Carter. He sensed the woman had lost her stern conviction. The way she was looking at Darcy, there was empathy or sympathy in her expression. He felt like Carter wanted to believe Darcy, and maybe she did in her heart, but her head just wouldn’t let her accept the impossible as plausible. 

“Then I guess we’ll just have to have faith.” Bucky said. 

Carter startled at that, her eyes latching on to him. He took advantage and spoke directly to Carter from his heart. “I didn’t believe her either.” 

“But you two were…” 

“I liked her right from the start. She’s spunky and mouthy and gorgeous, but she told me the truth and it was too hard for me to believe. I thought it was all some comforting delusion she’d come up with to make her torture at Zola’s hands tolerable.” 

“What changed your mind?” Carter asked softly.

“I don’t know that I have.” He confessed. He thought his honesty would drive Darcy away from him, but to his shock she took his hand and laced their fingers together as he spoke. “I believe in God, was raised to be a good Catholic and--she told me I was going to die. Get my arm chopped off. Spend 70 years under Hydra’s thumb doing their bidding.” 

“Is that true?” Stark asked, but Darcy didn’t answer, she was looking at him and he at her. 

Still speaking to Carter, he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from Darcy’s face. “I don’t believe in any of it, the time travel, the aliens, it all seems crazy. I especially don’t believe in fate. My fate in particular. But I believe in her. In Darcy. In who she is and.. who’s she not.”

“How can you be sure we can trust her? To believe her story means to withhold information from our superiors.” Carter said, “That’s treason.” 

“Or is it merely exercising our independence as Americans?” Stark said with a shrug.

That made Carter exhale in amusement. 

“It’s faith.” Bucky said. “And a willingness to be proven wrong.” 

Carter looked down at Darcy and he let go of her hand so the two women could focus on each other. 

“I’ll understand if you can’t believe me.” Darcy told her, “I just need a little help surviving in a world where I don’t know anyone or have anything to my name besides what’s in this stupid bag of secret shit I can’t show anyone, ya know, besides you guys." He could sense Carter melting as Darcy continued to talk. "Also, bonus, apparently I’m considered a second class citizen due to my vagina which will just make everything even harder to deal with." 

Darcy reached for Peggy's hand and to his shock the other woman allowed the contact. "Peggy, I know nothing about how shit around here works, the customs, social norms and I--I just need a friend. Who happens to be a badass boss bitch who won’t take shit from nobody and help me do the same, ya know without getting imprisoned for indecency or whatever.” 

He and Stark snickered but it was Carter's amused grin which was the true victory. When Carter gave Darcy a small nod and patted the back of her hand saying, "I suppose I can trust you enough to be your friend." It felt triumphant. 

“And friend’s don’t snitch?” Darcy asked with hopeful lilt. 

“I look forward to being proven wrong.” Carter answered diplomatically. 

“Well, this is just beautiful.” Stark, remarked. And for a second Bucky thought the man was appreciating the moment. But when he looked over he found the guy holding up something small and pink, one of the zippered pouches from inside Darcy’s bag lay open on the table before him. 

“Hey!” Darcy chastised, reaching for the tech, “Gimmie that!” 

“Howard.” Carter sighed.

“What is it?” Stark said, as he reached behind him to keep it out of Darcy’s reach. And he must have hit a button because a low hum filled the room. “Oooh.” Stark noted, “It’s vibrating.” 

“Yes.” Darcy told him as she gave up trying to grab it from him, “It’s my travel vibrator.” 

“And you use it for…sore muscles?” Bucky guessed.

“No.” She informed him with a wicked grin, “It goes on my clit when I’m masturbating.” 

With an infuriating casual air Stark asked, “Oh. Can you show me how it works?” 

“HOWARD!”  
“Stark!”  
“Sure.”  
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Cat video  


Dagger  


Bag lining  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, we back on schedule people!  
> So, I hope you see the lines I'm drawing between Peggy/Bucky and Darcy/Steve. Also did you like the dynamic between Howard/Bucky/Darcy? What about Peggy/Darcy? Also, I hope you enjoyed the Darcy/Bucky make out session, u know what's coming for those two right???


	9. Clean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of update last week, reason why is in end notes if your interested. Also. A question.

Chapter 9 – Clean

To say the bathrooms of the 1940’s Allies HQ were not up to the health code Darcy was used to, was an understatement. However given that this was her first chance to really bathe since she’d arrived in the old timey era she was taking full advantage of the opportunity. 

Peggy had set her up in a tiny private bathroom, before running off for a debrief with Colonel Phillips and Steve. Bucky was guarding the door while Howard went off to find her clothes. And she was grateful for all their efforts, but it was the chance for a bit of silence and solitude which she really appreciated. In some ways it felt like she’d been on a non-stop roller coaster since arriving in the 40’s, and the chance for a little bit of peace was something she didn’t know she needed until she had it. 

It’d taken her forty minutes to detangle and brush out her hair before entering the bath and by now the water was cool, not that it’d been all that hot to begin with, but Darcy paid no mind to the temperature. She let some of her worries melt away into the water, let it cleanse her of her thoughts and for a brief time she just…soaked. And her mind drifted.

 _She’d killed someone._ She’d taken a life, Lohmer. His name felt like an albatross around her soul. 

_Howard Stark would not be able to build her a time machine._ Even if she gave him access to all of Jane’s research on her laptop. But maybe he could?

 _She should destroy her laptop._ And phone. And ipod. And tablet. It was dangerous to the timeline if she stayed. Especially if Howard got his hands on it. Or worse, Zola.

 _She really liked Bucky._ He still didn’t believe her. And as result, he might fall into Hydra’s hands regardless of her intervention.

 _Money was more important than superpowers._ If she was stuck in the 1940’s permanently that meant she needed fake documents and like, a job. 

_She could make the world a better place._ She liked to watch crime shows and documentaries, and with her very ‘just the gist of it’ knowledge she could stop serial killers and terrorist attacks if her words had weight with the right people. 

_She was probably going to get black mold from the nasty tub she was laying in._ But it was kind of worth it after weeks of not showering?

However, any joy she felt at finally getting clean was tempered by her latest discovery of awfulness. Her shoulders, both of them, where she had been pierced by iron rods and harpooned to a mad scientists table…were healed. Not totally, but far beyond what was normally humanly possible. 

She knew it was a result of what Zola had done to her and probably behind his creepy departing messages of “I would take you with us if I had the time” and “You would have been one of my crowning achievements”. She knew she should tell someone, Bucky, Peggy, Stark. Steve? After all she and Bucky had been experimented on with variations of the Super Solider Serum. …Or so she assumed. 

No matter how hard she tried to clear her mind and just relax, she couldn’t. She tried distracting herself with picking the crud from out under her fingernails. Then shaving her legs and underarms. And finally she used the little bar soap to thoroughly scrub her skin clean and wash her hair. And for a minute or two, she was able to lay in her own filth and not think. 

A knock on the door shattered the brief peace she had found. A second later the door knob rattled and she heard a bang like someone had tried to open the door and someone else pushed it closed at the same time. Bucky’s muffled voice exclaimed, “You can’t go in there!”

And Howard’s voice responded, “How else am I supposed to give her the clothes?”

“Ya don’t! I will.” Bucky argued, “Now give me--’’

“But I got them! I should be the one who--”

She didn’t want to hear them bicker and frankly she didn’t give a damn about propriety. “Just fucking come in. I don’t care.” 

There was a brief pause before the door opened cautiously. “Dollface?” 

“Put them over on the sink.” She ordered, shifting in the bath she pressed her naked front to the side of the tub so even if he sneaked a peek all he’d get to see was the curve of her naked ass.

After Bucky came in, purposefully looking down at his feet, Howard stuck his head in and said, “Oh and Barnes, I ran into Rogers. Said he’ll meet ya at the bar in twenty.”

Bucky whipped his head around and yelled at the other man, “Get out!” 

Howard ignored him and instead let his eyes met hers before taking in the limited naked skin on display. She was surprised when he didn’t send her a saucy wink. Instead his brow furrowed and his mustache twitched with a frown. “You all right sweetheart? Need anything else?” 

“Get out!” They both ignored Bucky as he repeated himself and stalked towards Howard angrily. 

She addressed the genius with an amused grin and wave, “I’m good. Thanks How--.” Bucky bullied him out the door and shut the door loudly behind him. “-ard.” She finished lamely. 

She could hear the men arguing outside the door but, instead of eavesdropping, she submerged her head under the water for one last time. Holding her breath she stayed below the surface of water for as long as she could. Even with the water dulling her sense of sound she could faintly hear the men’s voices. When she heard/felt the door opening once again she left the water. With a gasp she resurfaced and found Bucky in the doorway with a hand over his eyes. 

“Um, Doll?”

“What?” She said, unable to hide her annoyance. 

“Ya gonna get out of the bath soon? Uh, I mean—not to rush you but Steve and the guys are--”

“Going to a bar.” She finished for him as she wrung the water out of her hair, “I heard.” 

“Do you wanna—I mean, if you’re feeling up to it. You wana go with me?” Bucky sounded so unsure of himself and it was oddly endearing. But at the same time she was a little annoyed by how territorial he was acting in regards to Howard. Didn’t he understand how instrumental Howard Stark was going to be in helping her fit in? 

Part of her wanted to tell him, ‘yes, Bucky I so want to date the crap out of you’. And another part wanted to put on Ke$ha and tell him she was a motherfucking woman who didn’t need a man to be holding her too tight. But yet another part of her recognized that the cause of her agitation wasn’t his fault. It was everything. Her discovery of an enhanced healing factor, her time travel situation in general, the un-luxurious accommodations, her doubts about ever returning home, and the monumental crushing weight of being one of the guiding hands that help shape this world’s future into one that is better than what she came from if she was stuck in this time permanently. 

She tried to hide the numerous burdens on her mind as she answered, “Actually, how about you run on ahead and I’ll catch a ride with Peggy and meet you there.” 

“Carter?” Bucky asked, “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” She then stood up and the sound of it attracted Bucky’s attention and for the briefest second he snuck a peak of her naked wet body. She didn’t know if she should feel offended or flattered but when he flushed pink and jerked away from her only to smacked his face into the doorframe she felt nothing but amused. 

“Uh.” Bucky exclaimed in a high pitched voice. That made her smile. She grabbed up her towel and wrapped it around her body watching Bucky flail to regain his cool.

“You okay?” She teased.

“I am—I didn’t see—Um. Sorry.” His face was tomato red and Darcy was loving it. “Uh, yes. Yes, I’ll meet you there. It’s—it’s I don’t know the name of the bar, but it’s the one all the guys go to and Carter probably knows it and…I’m going to go….Bye.”

She couldn’t help but chortle as Bucky shut the door but didn’t move quick enough, slamming the door on his own foot before backing out and closing it for the last time. On the other side she could hear him grunt and imagined him hopping around holding his foot. It was a funny mental image, but she doubted he’d ever be so silly; he was far too hot and sexy for that. 

She shuffled over to the door and locked it, assuring her privacy while she got dressed. 

As she moved over to inspect the clothes Howard had gotten for her she was a little disappointed to see only black. However, there was a fun hat. Picking it up to admire it closer she commented softly, “Oooh. Fancy.”

There was no mirror in the tiny bathroom so she had no idea how the outfit would look on her but as soon as she dried off enough to get dressed she knew Howard was not as good at guessing measurements as he thought he was. The bra and panties he got her were at least two sizes too small and only served to push up her already ample chest. Additionally, she could barely wiggle into the little black dress he’d provided. Just getting it zipped up took seven minutes and practically dislocating her arm. 

Once finally dressed she felt a little like a sausage and couldn’t help but worry about how her squishy bits looked in the unintentionally tight fitting dress. 

She was also a little annoyed to find a pair of low heels under the garment along with a black handbag, but she knew her pink combat boots would clash terribly so she put on the uncomfortable footwear. To her delight they actually fit. And they weren’t _that_ uncomfortable. 

After using her tiny little compact to throw on some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick, she transferred some of her non-eyebrow raising stuff like her makeup bag and her emergency clothes into the handbag Howard provided. Then she somehow managed to shove her pink boots into the Captain America messenger bag. 

It was a little annoying to have to carry both, but she was determined to carry her tech everywhere she went until she figured out what to do with it. Throwing Steve’s jacket over the top of the messenger bag, she took one deep breath and then finally left the bathroom.  
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She wandered around the Allied HQ for a while looking for Peggy. She got a lot of looks, a few whistles, but she was really surprised how no one stopped her or questioned her presence. It seemed like a big security risk to her, but then again she didn’t know if Colonel Phillips sent out a telegram or whatever to the building’s personnel about her victim/inventor status. 

By pure chance she stumbled upon Howard’s lab. Relieved to have found someone she knew, she let herself inside and quietly observed the going’s on. He was standing by a glass chamber and holding onto these big controls. Inside she could see a small glowing blue light and couldn’t help but think it looked like he was playing a cross between Operation and a claw game.

“Emission signature is unusual. Alpha and beta ray neutral.” The science minion on Howard’s right seemed to be documenting what he was saying. But the two exchanged a superior look as Howard remarked, “Though I doubt Rogers picked up on that.” 

Seeing the exchange as a break in the ‘science’ of it all Darcy took advantage and called out to catch the man’s attention. “Hey Howard?”

“Not now--” Howard started to reply before looking over at her but when he did, his eyes bugged out and his mouth dropped open. She was very flattered by the reaction and capitalized on it by jutting out her hip and putting a hand on her waist. “Wow. Wow. Wow.” 

“Busy?” Affecting a pout she shrugged and pretended to turn towards the door saying, “Okay I’ll just go then.” 

“No! Wait!” She was unsurprised by Howard muttering to his minion, “Here, Hanes, extract the pellet.”

With a Cheshire grin she watched as Howard transferred the controls over to his minion as the guy protested meekly, “But sir I’ve never-”

Howard waved away his colleges concerns as he quickly made his way over to her, “Just keep your hands steady Hanes.” Howard’s eyes kept running up and down her body, his lust on full display. And yes it was stupid and shallow and she knew she didn’t need a man’s approval to feel comfortable in her own skin, but just like that all her self-conscious thoughts floated away. Besides, getting Howard Stark on #TeamDarcy was an integral part of surviving this whole thing. 

Still talking to his science minion Howard took her hand and kissed her knuckles making her laugh, “Seems harmless enough. In fact Hanes, I hardly see what all the fuss is about.” 

“Alright sir.” The man answered shakily.

Finally giving her his full attention Howard complimented, “You’re a vision.” 

“Everything you got me is too small.” She complained, but her voice was light and teasing. 

“I disagree.” He said with a rakish grin. 

“Yeah well.” She poked him in the chest playfully, “You better have not done it on purpose mister.”

Just then behind them a flash of light preceded the chamber’s glass exploding outward. Darcy let out a yelp and instinctually she and Howard reached for each other as they watched his college got thrown across the room. Once the minor explosion settled Howard called out to the man without moving away from her, “You alright Hanes?” 

The man nervously checked his person as if expecting to be missing a limb. “Fine?” 

“Good.” Howard said. “Write that down and then pack it in for the night.” 

“But sir—”Another minion tried to protest but Howard was quick to shut the guy down. 

“Most of us have been up since before five in the morning and we’re running on fumes and crappy coffee. I made you work through lunch and dinner and now I’m telling you to get some grub and grab a solid six hours of sleep.” He stared down the minion which had spoken up, “Muddled minds lead to mistakes.”

When the science minion nodded, acknowledging the wisdom of Howard’s words or his scientific alpha male dominance, he grinned at the nerds and waved. “Besides, as you can see I got a hot date. See ya tomorrow fellas.” 

Darcy chuckled as Howard, in a very smooth move, slipped the strap of her messenger bag off her shoulder and onto his own while simultaneously slipping an arm around her waist to guide her into walking in step with him. 

As the door shut behind them she leaned into Howard, letting her lips just barely graze the shell of his ear making him shiver. In a husky whisper she said, “Is now a bad time to tell you what a big fan of your _son_ I am?”

“My what!?”

Darcy cackled at his reaction then hip checked him making him stumble into the wall. “You are such a little shit and I am living for it, but seriously, these panties are in danger of cutting off my circulation and we need to go underwear shopping before we go to the bar.”  
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She was disappointed by the selection in undergarments available in the 1940’s but pleased that the power of money and Howard’s charm kept the shops open past their closing time so she could fine some better fitting underpants and bras.

They left the shop arm in arm at almost eleven-thirty. Her hair was now mostly dry and with a little help from the blonde shop girl, she now wore her fancy hat. Finally getting to look at herself in a full length mirror she understood Howard’s reaction when he first saw her. The dress she wore was almost skin tight with how stretched it was across her voluptuous form, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She kind of looked like a hot young widow going to a funeral. And while she didn’t change her clothes at the store (out of pure laziness), she was glad Howard was generous enough with his time and funds to help her get her some era appropriate attire of her own so she wouldn’t get stuck wearing another ill fitting borrowed dress. 

Apparently large disposable shopping bags weren’t the norm yet, so Howard carried her two large canvas bags filled with clothes as they walked down the street to where they’d parked the car. It was shocking how normal the little street looked. When they’d driven through the rubble strewn streets she’d gotten a look at the devastation the city had suffered during the London Blitz. The little shop owners on this street were fortunate to have been spared, but even still they had this haunted look in their eyes. The people of this time had been through some horrible shit and Darcy felt like she couldn’t relate.

She couldn’t imagine living in a war zone. Of having her neighborhood leveled, her school destroyed, her grocery store bombed. It all seemed so…horrible. And she was a little in awe of the average people who were living through this nightmare and finding the courage to go back to work. Back into the line of fire. 

Howard opened the car door for her and stowed the bags, when he extended his hand to her to help her into the car she was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice. Only when his warm hand encircled her wrist did she come back to the present. “Something wrong? Did you want to go back and get that lacy blue set? I told you, money’s no object.”

There was a crinkle in Howard’s brow that spoke of his worry for her and Darcy felt like such an asshole. “Why are you helping me?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m using you for money.” She gestured to the other side of the street which was in ruins. “While you’re fighting a war. A just war. I’m using you…Why are you wasting your time with me?” 

She took a step back as she realized that engaging in this little outing with Howard was careless. It was yet another change to the timeline due to her interference, the impact of which she couldn’t even begin to speculate on. “You’re Howard Stark, you’re important. What are you doing with me? Don’t tell me that you’re so blinded by big boobs to--”

He took a step forward making her words falter as she hurried to take another step back to maintain distance. She stumbled on her heels in her effort to get away, the cool metal of the car at her back was all that kept her on her feet. 

They had been getting along so well all evening. He seemed to be everything the history books said he was and more. Handsome, charming, witty, intelligent, maybe a little misogynistic and condescending but he was quick to correct himself when she called him out on it. But what scared her was that she found him easier to talk to than anyone she’d encountered so far. 

His easy acceptance of her crazy story was like an instant-friendship baking mix. Just add compliments and free clothes and watch Darcy become too attached for her own good. 

“What’s wrong?” Howard demanded. He put one hand on the car just over her left shoulder and stood so close she could feel his body heat even through his three piece suit. “What’s got you spooked all of a sudden?”

She didn’t think, she just said the truth. “I’m changing things.” She confessed, “For the better or the worse I don’t know.” 

“That’s not it.” He said dismissively. “You were scrambling to get away from me just a second ago.” 

“I like you.” She said quietly, “And I can tell you like me.” 

“So?”

“And Bucky likes me. And Dugan, and Morita, the other commandos. They all like me and I’m working on winning over Peggy and Steve and if I put in the effort they’ll all—you’ll all like me more! And I was tortured. And it _sucked_! A-and--I killed someone. Officer Lohmer back at the Hydra facility, he was the first person I’ve ever killed and I need to go home because fighting robots and aliens is not the same as ending another human’s life. But I don’t know if going home is possible. Even with your help. Or if I’m stuck here and I’m using you and I feel bad about it. But I can’t _not_ use you, I won’t survive! And I—I just--” 

Howard caught her off guard when he swooped in and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and warm and was a chaste kiss but not one she expected or really wanted. Shoving against his chest hard, he fell onto his ass. 

And he laughed.

“Why are you laughing?! No—I don’t care. Why did you kiss me?!”

Still chuckling to himself, he dusted off his pants as he got to his feet. “I kissed ya, to snap you out of it.” 

Stalking forward she shoved him in the chest forcing him back a few steps as she demanded, “Out of what?!”

He grabbed her hands and kept them pressed to his chest as he explained softly, “Out of thoughts of any time that is not right now.” 

The thoughtful response had her anger receding. She stared at him and saw someone who was on her side, who wanted to help her. She contemplated telling about her enhanced healing factor thing, because so far he’d shown himself to be a very trusting and willing partner in crime, and she needed someone. Just one person who she could trust without a doubt, 100%. One person who believed in her from the beginning. 

However before she could make up her mind about spilling the superpowered beans, Howard was leaning in for another kiss, this time his move was telegraphed and slow, giving her time to stomp on his foot and back away from him, strangely laughing as she did. 

“What the hell?” She demanded, a smile fighting to make an appearance on her lips. 

“Not sure I deserved that.” He pouted, picking up his foot he rubbed the toe she’d hurt before wobbling and hopping to maintain his balance. 

“Howard!” She said in the same exasperated tone Peggy seemed to use every time she said his name. 

Letting his foot fall to the ground he gave up the ruse that she’d hurt him and he put his hands up in surrender. “Okay maybe that time I just saw an opportunity to kiss a pretty girl and took my shot.” 

Amused she let herself get closer to him. “You’re so…” She searched her mind for the perfect descriptor. _Real. Cute. Hot. Funny. Endearing. Awesome._ She couldn’t tell him any of that, it’d only stroke his ego and she could tell her reaction had him flying high already. So instead she told him, “You are such a fuck boy.”

“I...no, I’m not?” 

His face was so confused that it was kind of adorable. She blinked rapidly as the urge to start crying struck. It was so odd that Howard being cute made her want to cry, or maybe it wasn't that, maybe it was everything. Forcing the compulsion down she threw herself at his body and wrapped her arms around his waist, demanding. “Hug me.” 

His arms were quick to obey and they felt tight and secure around her. It was weird how close to him she already felt. No, not weird…scary. 

She appreciated his silence as they hugged. And when they broke apart she was even more grateful when he ignored her wiping at the corner of her eye. 

He moved over the car, of which the door was still open, and he offered her his hand. “C’mon sweetheart, I think if anyone deserves a stiff drink it’s you.”

She let him help her into the car and used the side mirror to check her makeup. Once he was back in the driver seat he moved to put the keys into the ignition, but she put her hand on his stopping him. “I hope you know that as a time traveler I have no choice but to use you for money, but that’s not—what I mean is, I’m sorry and thank you.” 

He was quiet as he picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. His lips lingered on her skin for a moment too long for it to be a friendly gesture or the suave move of a uncaring playboy. The moment felt very serious and strange for the seriousness was unusual for both of them. “I’ve found that honesty is as hard to come by as loyalty. And a man in my position, of my means…sweetheart, you’re not using me. You need something, you ask for it. Believe it or not that’s rare. And it’s something I appreciate.” 

Uncomfortable by his candor, she pulled her hand free of his grasp and looked out the window.

He started the engine and just before pulling away he said, “And you’re right. I do like you….and your big boobs.” 

Laughter bubbled out of her even as she chastised him, “Howard!”  
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On the way to the bar, they discussed his access to her tech. Or rather she laid down the law about him never ever breaking open her laptop or phone or anything to see how it works. He reluctantly agreed to stay away, but something in his demeanor told her that if he ever had the opportunity he wouldn’t be able to help himself. 

By the time they arrived at the bar where all local soldiers ‘wet their whistles’ it was almost 12:30pm. She spared a thought to her having worried Bucky and the others, but there was nothing much she could do about it.

Howard eyed the messenger bag slung across her body totally messing up the ‘va-va-voom’ look she had going on. “You sure you don’t want to let me wear that, just for now?” 

Responding with her words seemed like not enough of a response, so instead she put her hand on his face and just let it be there. From beneath her hand he said, “I take that as ‘no’.”

Smiling at him she removed her hand and offered him her elbow. “Give me your arm, after wearing these shoes for hours I need the help maintain balance.” 

He chuckled and she wondered if it was her unfiltered honesty which amused him or the way she said it. Either way he looped his arm through hers and lead the way into the bar. 

Upon entering her face immediately screwed up in disgust. For a second the music stopped before it started up again and she wondered idly wondered why but there was so much smoke in the air she couldn’t think for a second. “Ugh.” 

“Not your scene?” Howard questioned as he led her to the bar. Her eyes passed over the many drunken soldiers and the smattering of women that occupied the establishment, since they arrived so late she was not surprised by what she found.

“Its fine, I just wish you guys knew about Big Tobacco’s evil plans to give everyone cancer with their addictive and stinky cigarettes.”

“What?” Howard questioned as he motioned the bartender over. 

“What can I get ya?”

“I want a bottle and I want you to open it for me.” Darcy stated, looking at Howard expectantly.

Howard blinked at her before turning to the bartender and saying with smarmy charm, “You heard the lady, get her a bottle.”

“A bottle of what?” 

“White wine.” Darcy answered.

“Scotch for me.” Howard told him as he reached into his pocket searching for money. “And here’s something for your trouble.”

“DARCY!” The sound of Dugan yelling her name told her exactly how drunk the Commando’s were. “IS THAT YOU?!” There was a piercing wolf whistle and she shook her backside encouragingly in the general direction it came from.

“LOOK! IT’S DARCY! SHE MADE IT!” Dugan exclaimed. “DARCY! WE’RE OVER HERE!” 

Without missing a beat she grabbed the bottle out of the bartenders hand before he could set it down, turned on her heel and yelled, “DUGAN! I SEE YOU!”

“Really?” Howard commented as the Howling Commando’s started hooting and hollering for her, she did a little turn letting them take in her look from all angles as she took a long pull straight from the bottle. 

“Not even gonna use a glass?” Howard observed. Without answering him she started walking towards the guys calling out, “I clean up pretty good right?” 

Dernier shouted something in French and the other guys, who looked shit faced, yelled various things in agreements. However it was the silent man among their group that drew her attention like a moth to a flame. 

Bucky was gaping at her, but upon finally looking up to her face and seeing he had her attention, his mouth snapped closed. She laughed before drinking from the bottle again; Bucky now looked like he swallowed a frog and it was both hilarious and gratifying. She only pulled the bottle away from her lips when her thighs banged into the edge of the table causing laughter to ring out. 

“Lightweight Lewis?” Morita accused with a lopsided grin.

Gasping after chugging so much she smiled devilishly and posed for the group of men whom she had befriended under such dire circumstances, “Who wants to drink until they can’t walk straight?”

A rousing cheer sounded throughout the bar. Many of the soldiers lifted their glasses to her and she in turn raised her bottle yelling, “Cheers!”

“Here, here.” Howard whispered in her ear as he came up from behind her. She let out a laugh as his unexpected words made her shiver. She was about to tell him to get his hand off her ass, or well, away from just _above_ her ass, but Howard was raising his glass and looking out at everyone in the room. Projecting his voice to be heard above the din he said, “And how about another round for _everyone_ on me!” 

The place erupted in shouts and cheers and Darcy couldn’t help but roll her eyes and smile at the same time. She understood the act of ‘generosity’ as the self serving ploy that it was. 

She could feel how tense Howard was and empathized with how intimidating it must feel trying to join the rowdy group of soldiers when he himself was not one. Especially with her acting so familiar with the Commando’s due to how comfortable she was with them after being held prisoner with them. All of that insecurity and their differences in station could have stalled conversation or future friendship, but with one expensive act Howard was instead the benevolent benefactor of more liquor. And thus welcomed into the group with open arms.

Leaning in close she whispered in his ear, “Well played.” 

Raising her bottle to his drink he clinked his glass to hers and they both drank deeply. 

As Deriner got up to go to the bar and take advantage of Howard’s offer, Darcy took Howards arm and dragged him hissing, “Quick, take his spot. Take his spot!”

She all but shoved him into the seat, but Howard just looked concerned about spilling his drink.

She made a wavy hand gesture at him and Dugan ordering, “Now make friends.”

When she turned away Howard grabbed her bag, forcing her to remain in place. “And just where do you think you’re going?” 

She brushed off his hand and motioned to the men at the table, “Stop wasting time and start male bonding Stark, if memory serves these guys are shipping out to kick Nazi ass tomorrow and then you’ll only have me and Peggy to hang with.” She tapped him on the end of his nose, “We are so going to bond and then girl gang up on you and you’re going to” for why she did not know she sang her next words, “hate it.”

Howard frowned and drank from his glass grumpily making her laugh. “Besides, I see a chair with my name on it.” 

Confident Howard could make friends, she walked around the guys, patting backs and leaning in to kiss cheeks and exchange a few words until finally she came to Bucky. 

Grabbing the back of his chair and pulling with all her might she managed to budge him far enough away from the table that she could squeeze in between him and Morita to settle herself on his lap. She took another deep pull from her bottle before acknowledging Bucky at all. 

Setting the bottle down on the tiny wooden table they were all gathered around, she turned to Bucky and put them nose to nose, finally making him crack a grin. Not moving away she messed up his hair and said, “Hi chair. Did you miss me?”

His only response was to tilt his head and kiss the crap out of her. Ignoring the uncomfortable weight of her messenger bag pulling her back, the hooting of the men around them, and the super invading smell of smoke in the air, Darcy kissed him back.  
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By the time they were kicked out of the bar Darcy realized something truly horrible, after three bottles of wine and shots in between that, she was pretty sure couldn’t get drunk anymore.  
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Darcy’s Borrowed Too Small Outfit  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...Howard/Darcy...?  
> Friendship or More?  
> One sided romantic?  
> Or do we have a love triangle on our hands?  
> Or nah?
> 
> How you like the chapter? Let me know. 
> 
> also,  
> So...my mom went to one hospital for a leg and kidney thing, they tested her and she did not have covid. They transferred her to another fancier hospital and a week later, she had covid. In that hospital they then transferred her to the covid wing. 3 days later they wanted to discharge her because she was asymptomatic and they needed the bed space to for more 'about to die' covid people. 
> 
> I had to yell at a lot of people to get her transferred to a 3rd different hospital instead of sent home to me, to suffer from leg and kidney thing which was the reason behind her going to the hospital in the first place!
> 
> ....so, blame the 2nd hospital for all delays. They stressed me out and ate up all my time last week. 
> 
> and the moral of the story is fancy rich hospitals probably have covid people sneezing in the salad...


	10. Gentlemen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BUCKY POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE!  
> I hope you all stay safe and healthy and enjoy the time off from work if you have it.

Chapter 10 – Gentlemen 

Bucky had spotted Darcy and Stark entering the bar as soon as they crossed the threshold. Carter had come by earlier and scooped up Steve, in the process informing him she’d seen the pair heading off to the shops for what Howard termed ‘essential’ supplies. 

Darcy skipping out on their date to make time with another man left him in a dour mood that not even Dugan’s most hilarious drunken antics could shake him of. He’d been noticeably quiet all evening and sipping at the same beer for the past hour, but the guys understood why so they left him to it mostly. 

She’d warned him and told him it was coming so he wasn’t surprised when Steve asked him and the other Commando’s to join an elite squad that would soon head back out into the fray. He didn’t hesitate or think about it, he just said yes, because it was Steve who was asking. And Darcy was right of course, he’d never let his best friend run head first into danger without being right by his side. 

According to her they’d would be known as ‘Captain America and the Howling Commando’s’ in the history books. And while he knew he was doing the right thing, he didn’t know how he felt about his supposed legacy as Steve’s side kick. His friend’s physical transformation was still a bit of a shock and he hadn’t fully gotten used to it. Still in talking to Steve it was clear to him his friend hadn’t changed on the inside. But watching him interact with the other commando’s…the way people treated him now was drastically different. 

Bucky found himself now being subtly or unconsciously treated as the lesser of the two of them. And being seen as second best was not a role he was familiar with. Not that he was jealous, he was honestly happy for Steve and felt true joy knowing his friend was no longer in danger of wheezing his way into an early grave. 

However, objectively, he was now the shorter, weaker, and less impressive man in their friendship. And it stung. 

Spying Darcy and Stark walk into the bar arm in arm had him sinking lower in his seat. He didn’t need her choice being rubbed in his face. And from watching them interact from afar it was clear they had chemistry or at the very least there was a growing affection between the two. 

“DARCY! IS THAT YOU?!” The guys around him grew rowdy as Darcy shook her backside in their general direction, while still giving most of her attention to the bartender. Bucky didn’t miss the look of distain Stark threw them as Dugan exclaimed, “LOOK! IT’S DARCY! SHE MADE IT! DARCY! WE’RE OVER HERE!”

Stark, while not a fighter, was a very impressive man. And Bucky was confident enough in his masculinity to acknowledge he was also handsome. In so many ways he admired the hell out of Stark. One of his last nights in Brooklyn he and Steve had seen the guy on stage presenting a flying car! Well, an almost flying car. The point was Stark had money and charm and brains to spare. Not to mention influence. 

Intellectually he saw the strategic value Stark held for Darcy given her extreme and odd circumstances, but it still bugged him that she promised to keep her story quiet and then immediately turned around and blabbed to Stark. And Carter. And now she shows up with the guy arm in arm? Hours later, after standing him up so the rich guy could take her out shopping? 

“I clean up pretty good right?” Darcy called out as she and Stark approached the Commando’s table. He barely registered what was being said around him because the way she walked, her hips were mesmerizing as was the gentle bounce of her breasts with every footstep. The closer she got the more sinful she looked; the dress she wore was more than figure hugging it was like a second skin. And for a brief second the image of her wet and naked body flashed through his mind. 

“Tue es magnifique!” Dernier shouted. 

“Saw a couple stiffs keel over clutching their chests when you shook your ass, kid.” Dugan said with a drunken chuckle. “You’re practically a lethal weapon dolled up like that.” 

“Seriously Lewis, looking like that you could stop traffic.” Morita complimented as he raised his bottle in toast to her ensemble. 

When he finally looked up to her face he first noticed she was wearing makeup then realized he was gaping at her like a fish and snapped his mouth closed. She laughed at him and drank straight from the bottle earning a few hoots of encouragement from Dernier. He watched, his eyes trained on her pale throat as she seemed to try to swallow the bottle all in one go. Banging into the table slightly had her pulling away from the drink with a tiny gasp. 

Laughter rang out at the table. And Morita teased her, “You a lightweight Lewis?”

Smiling invitingly she posed for them declaring, “Who wants to drink until they can’t walk straight?” 

A rousing cheer sounded throughout the bar and Darcy looked pleased with herself, but to her left Stark looked uneasy. Bucky expected the crowded smoke filled bar wasn’t his normal scene. In fact the tumbler of no doubt top shelf liquor was in notable contrast with the mugs of beer everyone else sported. Except for Darcy, but everyone knew that dames liked the sweet drinks more than beer, so that wasn’t so odd. 

Stark’s clear discomfort brought him a significant amount of glee. Darcy was loud and candid and drank straight from the bottle and told dirty jokes and got along so well with the rough and tumble Commando’s. And while she was dressed to the nines, it was clear she wasn’t that kind of woman she was. Not really. 

Stark in his expensive three piece suit was stiff as a board and looked out of place in the bar but especially amongst their company. Perhaps he’d seen something between the two of them that wasn’t there? Maybe he was just jealous. After all, if Howard didn’t fit in with her friends then any relationship between he and Darcy would be doomed--- 

“And how about another round for _everyone_ on me!” Howard preened plastically as the offer had the crowd clapping and shouting praise at his generosity. 

Darcy leaned in close to whisper in Stark’s ear and Bucky couldn’t help but wonder what she said, because it made Stark smile smugly in Bucky’s direction. 

There was a tiny sense of betrayal as Dernier hopped to his feet to give the rich asshole a pat on the back and a quick ‘merci’ as he made his way to the bar to take advantage of the ‘generous’ offer. Bucky frowned as Darcy bullied Howard into Deriner’s empty seat, encouraging the man to make friends with Dugan. The playful exchange between the pair left him equal parts angry and insecure.

He watched as Darcy made her way around the table of men, exchanging words and kisses, and offering compliments and asking questions. Until finally, she reached him. 

He jumped as his chair was pulled back. He looked at Darcy’s face, but she was laughing at Morita muttering ‘excuse me’ as she squeezed between the pair of them. And then she sat in his lap. 

He was a little confused; she’d stood him up and went out with Stark instead. He could see the two had built some kind of relationship in the short time alone, so he’d thought whatever was between them was over now that she’d snagged Howard. But now she was sitting on his lap. 

He thought he’d understood women but Darcy’s behavior left him flailing. 

She took another deep pull from her bottle before setting it down and finally turning her full attention on to him. She pressed her face close to his until their noses touched. The silly innocence of the gesture made him grin. She really was like no other woman he’d known. She was so free with her affection and her body and her words. 

She ran her fingers through his hair messing it up and probably making him look a fool. “Hi chair. Did you miss me?”

He didn’t care that she called him a chair. Or stood him up. Or arrived with Stark. Or drove him crazy. Or _was_ herself, crazy. Because he had missed her. 

With a tilt of his head he leaned in for a kiss. Her lips were slightly slick due to the lipstick she wore but they were just as velvety soft as before. As her arms wound around his neck he let his clasp behind her lower back, supporting her as she pressed herself closer to him. 

The boys made noise as their kissing dragged on, but they both ignored them. 

Having Darcy in his arms, her willing lips against his own, all his thoughts of being second best seemed like madness.

They ignored everyone for a good long while. At least an hour. Lost in each other the world fell away until Morita literally shoved his hand in between them to pry them apart. 

“You’re being rude.” He scolded as Bucky panted, still staring at Darcy’s lips. “And some of these perverts are just sitting around and watching you. It’s becoming unseemly.” 

Darcy responded with a rude gesture that made the table laugh. Darting in for one last kiss Bucky silently cursed Morita as Darcy turned and settled her back against his chest and her heavy bag on her stomach. “Okay boys, what’d I miss?” 

Bucky was content to hold her in his arms as the other men vied for her attention, telling her the big news of their imminent departure. 

“Old news boys,” She waved them off, but Bucky saw Stark perk up. The man who had bought his way into the Commando’s good graces seemed surprised to learn they would soon be shipped out to hunt and destroy the rest of Hydra’s weapon’s manufacturing sites. 

“So tell us about you and Barnes.” Morita challenged with a nudge of his elbow into her side. “When did this happen?”

Bucky pressed a kiss to the back of her head, he was eager to hear how she defined their relationship given how transparent his feelings on the matter probably were. 

Darcy did not respond as he would have hoped. Acting aghast she made a joke of it, gasping dramatically before accusing, “Morita! Are you calling me a slut?” 

“What?! No!” Morita’s eager defense had the other men chuckling.

“Because I thought you and I were better friends than that.” She whimpered, faking wiping away a tear. “And being slut shamed so horribly in public is like so mean--” Her words abruptly cut off as she threw her arms on the table, hiding her head, and made crying noises…very poorly acted crying noises. 

It was at that point Morita realized she wasn’t really offended. “Har, har.” 

“Hey,” She said, popping up and pointing her finger at Morita, “You totally fell for that.” 

“And you totally avoided answering the question.” Morita fired back with a pointed finger of his own. 

“Duh.” Darcy pressed the end of her finger to his earning a snort from their friend. “But since the question in question was none of your beeswax I feel justified in fucking with you a little.” 

Falsworth, revealing himself to be a forward drunk, attempted to level a smoldering gaze at Darcy as he huskily hiccupped, “I’d love to have a woman like you fuck with me.” 

Darcy threw her head back and laughed, which made Falsworth pout but everyone else join in. “Oh my god, oh my, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Darcy fanned herself, “That was such a bad come on. Like, just so poorly worded.” 

Still pouting, the Brit muttered into his beer, “S’was only joking.”

“Oh honey,” Darcy stood up but remained in place as she leaned across the table, knocking down several empty mugs with her breasts, in her effort to reach Falsworth’s hand for a gentle pat. “There, there.” 

Morita and Dugan rushed to keep the empty mugs from falling to the floor as he pulled Darcy back to sit in his lap instead of laying across the table so hazardously. “Trust me guys,” She continued not acknowledging her breast/beer mug related blunder, “you are all hot and sexy in your own ways.”

Falsworth who was by far the drunkest out of the lot of them, looked a little hopeful at Darcy’s declaration. “Yes you,” She said acknowledging him, “With your cheekbones and the accent, you could totally have your pick of the--” Bucky watched Darcy taken in the rest of the bar and it’s meager patrons. Her voice wilted a little as she concluded, “Eligible ladies in here.” 

“Darce, sweetheart,” Howard said, with a saucy grin, “besides you, all the other women in this bar are prostitutes or like Peggy. In the service, meaning on the clock tomorrow morning bright and early and thus probably not interested in more than a free drink or three.”

“Really?” She sounded genuinely surprised. And as one the group surveyed the patrons more closely. He spotted a few women who were pretty, but Stark was right most of them were in uniforms. And the one’s that weren’t…well they looked a little rough around the edges to say the least. 

Sounding like she was making excuses Darcy said, “Well, it is pretty late. Maybe all the single ladies got snatched up early.”

“Probably.” Stark acknowledged as he downed the rest of his drink. “Either way, if you’ll excuse me.” He shook his empty glass and then headed to the bar. 

Darcy bounced on his lap excitedly; she slapped Morita on the arm and pointed at a blonde in the corner. “Oh! Look at her. She’s pretty. And she’s wearing a nurse’s uniform.” Lowering her voice she nudged Jones with her elbow, “Maybe if you’re nice, she can take your temperature…if you know what I’m saying.”

“I don’t.” Jones said with a bemused expression. 

“Your penis.” Darcy said loudly making Dugan choke on his sip of beer. “She could take your temperature by sucking your dick.” 

Dernier and Falsworth cracked up, while Jones and Morita shook their heads as if ashamed for her but undeniably amused. “Oh come on. You can’t tell me you guys don’t have the naughty nurse trope yet. Isn’t that what Florence Nightingale inspired? …or—I might be thinking of the historical porn parody.”

Bucky muffled his laughter in Darcy’s hair, but the other men didn’t even try to hide it.  
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After a lot of wheedling and coaching, Darcy convinced Falsworth to stumble his drunken self over to the blonde nurse and try to pick her up. The table was silent as they watched Falsworth trip into the chair next to the woman. And then try to recover by saying, “Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.” 

Darcy snorted as she accepted a shot from Dernier and threw it back. “Okay, at least he remembered the line.” 

“Oh, I don’t think it’s his memory which is failing him.” Jones jeered.

Darcy had given Falsworth a dozen choices in ‘pick up lines’ to use when approaching the nurse, however in his drunken state it seemed Falsworth was instead listing all of them. 

To her face. 

“Hey, hey nurse feel my shirt, know—you know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material. I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together. Wink, wink. Well, here I am ma’am. What are you other two wishes? Do you like sleeping? Me too. We should do it together sometime.” 

Bucky was too amused too feel bad for his friend when the nurse politely excused herself and left.

“Awww. Sad. We should do this again when he’s not so drunk.” Darcy declared as she and Jones clinked drinks before chugging them down. “Seriously, you guys are so lucky. I’m like the best wing woman ever. If I can’t get you laid no one--”

“Are you hitting on my girl, city slicker?” A loud angry voice sounded from the bar making Darcy go quiet. Looking over, Bucky found a tall corporal in uniform looming over Stark as a pretty redhead cowered behind him.

Clearly drunk, Stark pasted on a smarmy smirk and said the exact wrong thing. “In my defense pal, I thought she was a prostitute.” 

The corporal grabbed Stark’s lapel and hit him with a left hook. The second the man’s fist made contact with Stark’s face Darcy was up like a shot and ordering, “Move, move.”

She hustled Morita out of her way and made a run for the bar. After stumbling over her heels, which she’d apparently taken off and abandoned under the table, Bucky was right behind her. With a split lip Stark grinned antagonizing the other man, “That the best you got?” 

“Fucking idiot!” Darcy shouted as the corporal pulled his arm back to hit Stark again, arriving just in time she intercepted the punch by grabbing onto the man’s bicep and jumping, putting all her weight on the limb. The corporal not expecting the interference was thrown off balance and toppled to the floor and on top of Darcy who fell along with him. 

“Hey!” Stark shouted, sounding angrier than after he got punched, “Get off a’ her.” Though his attempt to help Darcy was well meaning, the man was so drunk that he just sort of fell onto the two who were trying to get up from the floor making the task that much harder. 

As Bucky pulled Stark off the top of the pile, he was relieved to see Dugan on his left pulling the corporal off of Darcy. He tried to help Stark to his feet, but the man’s knees buckled and he had to keep hold of him or he would crumple to the floor again. 

His eyes flickered to the bar top where Stark had been standing for the past forty minutes or so. There were several empty shot glasses. Which explained his extended absence from the table, an absence which Bucky had silently reveled in. Doing some quick math in his head, given Stark’s size and the amount of empty glasses he presumably consumed, it was no surprise the guy was having trouble standing up. However, Howard did not seemed to appreciate his help, as he continued to push at Bucky’s hands (which were the only things keeping him upright) and shouted, “Get off, get—stop touching me Barnes!” 

Annoyed by the man’s arrogance he muttered “fine” and let him go. The thud of his body hitting the dirty floor was satisfying until he heard Darcy’s shrill cry of, “Howard!” 

She was still on the floor so she crawled on her hands and knees quickly covering the short distance between them. “Oh, Howard.” She picked up his head and rested it on her thighs gently carding her fingers through his hair, “Are you okay?” 

“I think I hit my head.” Stark mumbled as he reached for the hand that she was using to pet his hair, once caught he held it and rested their joint hands over his heart. 

“Fuck.” She exclaimed quietly with a frown. 

“Right here on the floor? With everyone watching? Well, if you insist.” Due to his bloody mouth when Stark smiled at her charmingly it came off as wounded and creepy. When he waggled his eyebrows at Darcy Bucky could see how forced the action was and wondered who he was performing for, Darcy or himself?

Not smiling Darcy gently chastised, “Oh my god. Shut up.” 

Dugan having a tight hand around the bicep of the other man involved in the scuffle shook his arm prompting, “You got something to say to the lady asshole?” 

“Sorry about your boyfriend ma’am.” The corporal looked flush with regret, and now that Bucky was looking at him up close he could see the kid was barely 18 and yes tall, but skinny and awkward looking too.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Darcy told the man distractedly, she was back to petting Stark’s hair. “But he is my responsibility.” Looking to him, Darcy asked, “Help me get him to the car?”

Bucky nodded and bent down to help Stark up. The man had a sour expression but allowed the help this time. However Stark made sure to keep his other arm wrapped around Darcy’s shoulders not letting her get away. Once the three of them were standing, Darcy gave a nod to Dugan and a wave to the rest of the guys at the table, who despite their inebriated states, looked alert and ready to spring into action. Well, all of them except Falsworth who was passed out on the table, snoring. “I’ll see you guys before you ship out. Okay?” 

“We’re supposed to be ready to leave by noon, kid.” Dugan told her helpfully. “We agreed to all meet by the transpo building to pick up our ride.” 

“Gotcha.” Darcy said with a nod. “And thanks for the assist.” 

“Oh please,” Dugan smiled at her proudly, “You had it all under control.”  
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The drive back to HQ was uneventful. Bucky drove Stark’s fancy car while Darcy coddled him in the backseat, cooing over his injuries and shooting down his come on’s. By the time they made it to Howard’s room the man was looking a little green. The second they got his door open, Stark made a mad dash for the bathroom and Darcy was hot on his heels.

Despite Stark’s protests and pleas for her to leave, Darcy stayed. She sat on the floor and rubbed his back as he retched into the toilet. When she saw Bucky looking in on the two of them, she pushed on the door with her foot until it was mostly closed. 

Not really knowing if she wanted him to stay or would need his help with moving Howard again, Bucky hovered near the entrance. Stark’s room was small, but him having a private room with a bathroom spoke of his rank and privilege. The room consisted of little more than a desk which was littered with papers, a wall which had papers tacked up, a large armoire of clothes, an empty suitcase in the corner, and a standard issue bed that had been outfitted with expensive sheets. Compared to what he was used to the small room was a palace, but he imagined it was not what the millionaire was accustomed to. And that said something about Stark’s character too. 

“Get it all out Howard, don’t hold back okay? Just. Get it all out.” He could hear Darcy quietly coaching the man in the other room and he recognized the softness in her voice as she spoke to him, but surprisingly he wasn’t threatened by it. 

Darcy had sat on his lap all night. She had kissed him. Chosen him. And after this display of physical and moral weakness he couldn’t imagine her wanting to put her lips anywhere near Howard Starks. But he also recognized her feelings of friendship for the man. Her need for him to like her. It was obvious in the way she spoke to him, tried to protect him, and felt comfortable around him, the two got along like a house on fire. Stil, he felt pretty confident that Darcy liked Howard the way she liked Dugan or Morita. As a friend. The way Howard felt about Darcy however, that was a different story. 

“Alright.” Stark said sounding tired, “I’m done.” 

“Sit on the toilet and I’ll get your tooth brush.” Darcy ordered. “You wanna take a shower?” 

“Nah.” 

“Okay.” 

“We need to get your stuff out of the trunk.” Howard said, before the sound the tooth brush indicated he was doing as Darcy had ordered.

“We can deal with that later.” 

“You should have your boyfriend do it now, so you don’t have to sleep in that dress…unless you sleep in the nude?” 

Darcy laughed softly. “Okay, good point.” There was a beat before she added, “And he’s not my boyfriend. I…I’m going to get overly attached, because that’s who I am, but I don’t expect him to--”

“He’s in love with you.” Howard stated boldly, “Or half way there already.” 

“No he’s not.” Darcy denied. “He doesn’t even believe my story.” 

“Yeah, but he believes in you. Right?” He was thrown by Howard Stark seemingly defending him to Darcy. It was unexpected given the man was so obviously sexually attracted to Darcy. “And you like him.” Howard pressed. 

“Of course I like him.” She answered breezily.

“But?” Howard prompted.

“But nothing,” She made an effort lower her voice further but Bucky could still hear every word. “We—we’re just messing around. Killing time. Trust me; love has nothing to do with us sucking face.” 

“Is that how you really feel or how you think he feels?” 

A second later the door opened fully and Darcy stuck her head out. He tried to hide his disappointment that he wouldn’t get to hear her respond to Howard’s question. “Bucky?” 

“Yeah?”

“Can you go get the bags of clothes we bought from the trunk of the car?” She smiled softly but batted her lashes, “Pleeease?” 

With a smile he nodded going to the door, “I still got his keys. Where do you want me to put your things?”

“Here.” Howard answered before he leaned over to spit in the sink. 

“I beg your pardon?” Bucky asked with a raised brow.

“Oh shit.” Darcy said with wide eyes, “He’s right, I don’t have a room.” 

“Yes you do.” Howard countered, “Right here. With me.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She protested. “I should probably go find Peggy and sort this out-”

“It’s two in the morning sweetheart.” Howard moved to lean against the doorframe opposite her, “Face it, at least for tonight you’re either sleeping here with me, or joining your boy toy and the rest of the grunts in the barracks.”

Darcy and Howard both looked surprised when he voiced his opinion, saying, “here.” 

“What?”  
“Really?” 

He nodded, “I’m the bigger man so I’ll sleep on the floor and you two can share the bed. We’ll _all_ stay here tonight.” He cast the other man a challenging smirk, “Unless you have any objections?” 

Howard’s frown was deep and the exact opposite of Darcy’s bright smile. “Okay!” She chirped. 

“I’ll be back.” He said a little warningly as he opened the door and shut it behind him. 

He was confident now that Howard was after Darcy, as a conquest or a lover or something more insidious, he wasn’t certain. But he was determined to keep her affections for himself for as long as possible. Because Stark was right, he was halfway in love with her already.  
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When he returned to the room he found the door locked, which he found odd. It put a little bit of urgency into his scrambling for the keys, but before he could get the door open Darcy called to him from the other side, “Bucky is that you?” 

“Yeah.” He answered back a little uncertainty creeping into his tone. 

“Hold on, I’ve got to get up and move the towels.” 

“What?” 

After a minute there was some shuffling and then he heard the wrap of knuckles on the door. “Okay, you can open it now.” 

Using the keys he turned the lock and opened the door slowly. Darcy was quick to grab his arm and pull him inside. She then shut it firmly and locked it, before bending down to place towels along the bottom of the door. As she stood up and saw his face, which was probably a picture of confusion, she explained, “I didn’t want anyone to see the light. And it helps muffle the music.” 

While she was gesturing to the bed where Howard was sitting up with Darcy’s laptop, he realized that in his absence she had changed clothes. Darcy now wore one of Howard’s undershirts and a pair of silky red boxers. A glance at the bed found the millionaire was dressed in matching attire. And he was holding up Darcy’s laptop prodding at the cord that ran from the machine to the wall outlet. 

“Howard!” She called out scolding, dashing back to the bed she climbed aboard and grabbed the machine away from him, “I told you no looking at the insides!”

“The power cord is on the outside of the machine.” He argued looking put out. 

“Don’t you semantics me mister!” 

Bucky dropped her bags of clothes near Howard’s desk and made a slow approach. The bed wasn’t very big, but the two of them fit on it without issue. However there was no way he could squeeze on as well and still be able to see whatever they were looking at on the machine.

Unprompted Darcy informed him “We’re watching a movie.” On her knees she moved to the center of the bed, the thing creaking all the way, reaching for his hand she tried to pull him onto the mattress.

“Darce?” She had to realize they wouldn’t all fit. And yet she was pulling pretty strongly on his arm, compelled by the strength behind the action he sat stiffly on the very edge of the bed. 

“No,” She whined with a frown, shoving she tried to push him closer to Howard. “Just—Bucky, get closer to Howard so I can sit in the middle.” 

“What middle?” He questioned, “If I sit on this bed with Stark, they’ll be no room for you.” 

“By middle, she means on top of us.” Howard explained.”Like a human pyramid, but vertical.” 

Darcy nodded in agreement. 

Reluctantly he allowed himself to bullied until he was shoulder to shoulder with Stark on the small twin bed. Carefully, Darcy held the laptop in the air and moved so her ass was sitting on their thighs. There was a lot of wiggling and adjusting before they got comfortable and even then, her elbow was digging uncomfortably into his chest, but he held his tongue. 

Placing the machine on her breasts Darcy directed them to look back at the glowing screen. An image of a buxom blonde and a raven haired beauty filled the screen. “You’re just in time for the song.” 

“What’s happening?” He questioned, but she didn’t answer just hit a button and shushed him. Howard did though. 

Whispering the other man explained, “Their show girls going on a cruise to Paris. Blonde’s got a rich sucker on the hook to marry her, brunette’s looking for tail and--”

“Shhh.” Darcy frowned, “Just watch, you’ll figure it out.” 

Music started, it was catchy but unfamiliar to him however it was a tune Darcy knew well, as evident by her singing along. 

“Bye, bye, baby.  
Remember you're my baby.  
When they give you the eye  
Although I know that you care  
Won't you write and declare  
That though on the loose  
You are still on the square  
I'll be gloomy  
But send that rainbow to me  
Then my shadows will fly  
Though you'll be gone for a while I know that I'll be smilin'  
With my baby by and by, and by  
With my baby by and by.”

It was a surreal experience, watching a movie without getting dressed up to go to the theater, but one he enjoyed immensely. Once they got past Darcy’s beloved songs she was more agreeable to stop and explain things about the plot, the characters, and such. However, despite how much she loved it, halfway through she fell asleep and as a result, the whole machine almost fell to the floor, but at the last second he caught it. 

“I think she’s asleep.” He whispered as settled the machine on his free leg. 

“What tipped you off, the snoring or the drool?” Stark quipped.

Bucky looked back at Darcy’s face, it was true she was ever so slightly snoring, but there was no drool. He gave the other man a confused look, but Stark wasn’t paying attention. He was rubbing his hand over his face several times as if he could wipe away his tiredness. 

“You’ve had a night, Stark. And you look a little rough. You want me to turn it off so you can get some shut eye?” 

“Same to you pal.” Stark replied snappily, his eyes popped open and narrowing at him as if daring Bucky to make another comment about his appearance. “You got a big day tomorrow, shipping out. Leaving Darcy behind to the wolves.” 

“What wolves?” 

“The military brass, Carter, me?” Howard looked down at Darcy and there was a brief flash of tenderness in his expression before he hid it and refocused on Bucky. “Life’s full of wolves that would devour a delicate thing like her.”

“Darcy,” he scoffed, “Delicate?” 

“She is.” Stark insisted, “Underneath all the bravado. Maybe you can’t see it, but I can.” 

Sitting up as much as he could without dislodging Darcy, he looked Stark in the eyes. “What’s your problem with me?” 

“What’s your problem with me?” 

Rolling his eyes at the juvenile response he tried a more direct line of questioning. “What do you want from Darcy?”

“What do you want from--”

“Can you stop that?” He asked, exasperated. 

There was a long silence before Howard answered, “I want whatever she’s willing to give me.”

“Meaning?” Bucky prompted.

“Meaning…she’s…there will never be a woman like her again.” Howard was looking down at the sleeping woman, once again his expression softened. “If she’ll let me be her friend, I’ll be the best friend she's ever had. If in addition to friendship she’ll allow us to be bedroom buddies, even better.”

“You--”

“If she falls in love with me, even better.” Howard leveled a charged look at him, “Like I said, I want whatever she’s willing to give me. But in my experience, if you don’t ask you don’t receive so…I'm gonna ask. In different ways, at different times, I'm going to see what she's willing to share with me.” 

Skeptical, he challenged the other man in flat tone, “You’ve known her a day.” 

Howard waved him off like the reality of the time he'd spent alone with her had no bearing on his future plans for her. “I’m an ambitious man. I see something I want I go after it. And, if her presence here has taught me anything thus far, it’s that Al was right. Time is relative. It’s only worth depends upon what we do as it is passing.” 

Things suddenly fell into place for him about how Stark had been acting. He suspected the man really did like Darcy and he really was fine with just being her friend unless he could something more to her, and then he wanted that. Because Howard Stark was a greedy, cunning, man. “You’re testing your limits with her. Seeing how far you can push her before she pushes back and rejects you.” 

“I’ve already kissed her.” Howard bragged. “And now your leaving,” He shrugged, “That’s a whole different equation, if I don’t test my hypothesis given new variables how will I ever know the true answer to my question?” 

“And I’m the variable.” Bucky stated. And suddenly it was a fact. Howard Stark was after his girl. “And the question is, can you have her.” 

“I want her.” Howard confirmed. “For how long, for what reason, to what end, all that’s…in flux.” 

“You’re an asshole.” 

“I prefer the term opportunist.” He said flippantly.

“If you hurt her--”

Sounding genuine, Stark interrupted saying, “I don’t want to hurt her. I want to help her. And I can. I can help her more than you. More than anyone. It’s why she sought me out. She’s smart, smarter than she knows. And finding and befriending me, it’s going to keep her alive and safe. Because unlike you, I’m not going anywhere, and I can protect her.” 

Bucky didn’t know what to say, because what Howard said was true. He could provide for her financially, protect her from scrutiny, and he wasn’t leaving. On paper, Howard Stark was the superior choice when it came to Darcy’s survival….and happiness. 

Repeating himself he finished what he had to say, “If you hurt her Stark, I’ll kill you.” 

Howard let out a dark laugh. Then after a beat he asked, “Shall we finish the movie?” 

He really wasn’t in the mood, but the alternative…“Fine.” With a smirk he hit the button that made the movie start to play again, “But I’m pretty sure the brunette doesn’t end up with the gutless rich asshole.”

“And I’m pretty sure that you’re not going to listen to Darcy’s warnings, get your arm chopped off and become a puppet for Hydra for the next 70 years.” Howard cast him a shark like grin, “After all, if you don’t really believe she’s from the future why would you ever take advantage of the opportunity to change your fate, like I am?” 

In the dark of the private room he and Stark watched the rest of the movie in silence. When it was over Bucky closed her machine unplugged it and shifted Darcy onto the bed next to Howard. Instead of sleeping on the floor, he sat against the wall and thought. 

He thought about what Stark had said, about what he wanted from Darcy, now, after the war, in the future. If he had a future. What a future with Darcy might be like. What his life would be like if she really did just disappear back to where ever she came from. 

Howard Stark was more intelligent and ruthless than he imagined. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, because he honestly believed the guy was on Darcy’s side.

But so was he. 

He stayed awake all night. And when Darcy woke he pretended to be asleep. He let her go about her morning routine, using the bathroom, getting dressed, before he pretended to wake up. There were no windows in the tiny room, but he swore he could feel the sunshine on his face when she smiled at him and said, “Good morning handsome man. How’d you sleep?” 

“Good.” He lied. “Wanna get breakfast with me?” 

“Yum.” She said in response. They left the room and the sleeping millionaire behind.  
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It felt like being selfish, but over cold oatmeal Bucky laid it for her. Because what Howard said was true, if you didn’t ask you didn’t receive. “Darcy, I want you to be my girl. I want to be the only man who holds you and kisses you and makes you moan in pleasure. And I want you to wait for me. And I know it’s unfair to ask something like that of you, but it’s what I want. And I want you tell people that I’m your boyfriend. And believe--”

He didn’t get the opportunity to finish the rest of his speech. If the mess hall had been more crowded he would have broken away from Darcy’s lips so they could escape to some hole in the wall and kiss to their hearts content in private. But it was early yet. So he let her climb into his lap and kiss him silly.

After a while they were getting maybe too hands-y for what was appropriate for public, and where interrupted by a pointed feminine “Ahem.” 

Carter nosily dropped her tray of food on the table across from them, next to her Steve gave them a wave and a chagrin smile. As the pair took their seats Carter, not making eye contact, unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, muttering, “Miss Lewis please dismount Sergeant Barnes. This is the mess hall, not a brothel.” 

Not missing a beat Darcy did as the other woman asked even as she antagonized her saying, “Yes but if it was our foursome would be the most profitable attraction of all the whore houses in all the land, no doubt in big part because we can pass for sisters, so don’t go giving all the credit to our muscle bound counterparts, people would pay top dollar to watch us scissor even though that’s not really a thing.” 

Steve nearly choked on his milk, but Darcy finally made Carter laugh.  
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Darcy’s Breakfast Outfit  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE HOWARD, HE IS NOT A VILLIAN!!!!!! or he won't be the villain of this piece. In my head Howard has a crush and he thinks he's the best at everything and certainly the best choice for Darcy.  
> However, I know this chapter made my Bucky/Darcy shippers very happy.  
> Oh and that promise I made (circa chapter 1-ish) about making you fall in love with one ship and breaking your heart or trying to switch you over to another ship mid story...I don't know if I'm doing that anymore. But I am adding the Howard/Darcy tag to the story because I think its clear Howard HAS FEELINGS AND DOES NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO.
> 
> Leave a comment and make my Christmas. <3  
> 
> 
> & On a personal note, Mom's still in the hospital, spending Christmas alone so we might get more chapters this weekend, or I might binge watch Titans and Young Justice on HBO MAX after I watch Wonder Woman 1984, so...we will see.


	11. Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, so far it also sucks. 
> 
> Schedule will not run on time as mom is still in hospital so, expect 1-2 week between updates until that RL stuff sorts out. However, I have mentally worked out what we're doing!!!!! AND WHERE WE ARE GOING WITH THIS!!!! SO YAY! I have a plan.

Chapter 11 – Jealousy

Howard awoke alone and later than he would have liked. Pressing a hand to the empty space beside him he found the sheet cool to the touch, Darcy had been gone for a while then. The room was quiet without her and Barnes. Too quiet for his liking. He often found it difficult to sleep, his mind ever churning out ideas, but with Darcy by his side last night he’d slept like a babe. 

He glanced around looking for signs of her, seeking reassurance that the remarkable woman wasn’t merely a dream. Her bag of tech was gone but the clothes they had bought together remained in the corner of his room. He allowed himself a long sigh of relief. One bag was slumped over and half spilling out onto the floor looking as if it had been haphazardly rummaged through. 

He quickly surmised he’d been left behind on purpose. They’d taken care not to wake him. 

Barnes would be eager to spend time alone with her after seeing how close he and Darcy had the potential to become. How familiar they already felt with each other, as evidence by sharing the bed last night. The feeling of his competitor taking advantage of his restful slumber was irksome. 

He would never admit that the hustle in his stride to the bathroom was due to a fear of missing out on…what he didn’t know, but he was dressed and ready to face the day in record time. 

Just about to walk out the door he paused as a thought struck him like lightening. _Microcrystalline cellulose._

Rushing over to his desk he grabbed a pen and scribbled the idea down in the margins of General McGinnis’s request that he design a gas that would keep soldiers awake for extended periods of time. Using microcrystalline cellulose as an anti-caking agent meant they might be able to use the refined wood pulp to help stabilize the formula he’d been tinkering with. 

Part of him wanted to go to the lab straight away and get to work, but his stomach was empty and his head was throbbing and Barnes was leaving today. And not allowing Darcy and the solider to become too attached was important to him for, many reasons. Last night, the drink he indulged in might have made him too truthful with the solider about his intentions regarding Darcy. 

Making a quick exit from the room he cursed himself for overplaying his hand. Being left behind by the smitten couple told him much about the soldier’s strategy to win her heart. He wasn’t stupid, he knew there was a slim to none chance that he could win Darcy’s heart when in direct competition with the strapping soldier, but then again, her heart wasn’t what he was after. 

In Darcy he saw opportunity and excitement and the potential to change the world, he knew if she was stuck in their time period permanently he could use her future knowledge to his advantage and symbiotically she could use him to live in this world without adversity. And he wanted that. He wanted to be the one who ushered in new technology that would shape the world for generations to come. And Darcy could help him do that.

Not that he didn’t plan on doing that anyway. 

Howard was well aware that most of the things he conceived of were not possible given the era’s resources and limitations. In his head he saw a world so different than the reality he was surrounded by. Flying cars were possible. Electric ones. Eliminating physical currency. Automated services. He saw the future already, but Darcy’s appearance, the technology she’d shown him--there was so much more to come. And if somehow she let down her guard and he got his hand on her ‘laptop’ he knew he could help it come that much sooner. 

Meeting her, realizing that time travel was possible; it opened so many new doors in his mind. He thought he knew the laws of physics that ruled the universe, he thought he knew how fast technology could evolve, he thought he knew the limitations of what was possible. He was so happy to be wrong. 

The walk to the mess hall was shortened by his quick stride and single minded focus. Darcy would be hungry upon waking; Barnes would take her to get breakfast first before no doubt absconding to some private locale where they could neck and bond further. 

She was a beautiful woman to be sure, one he wouldn’t mind taking to bed a few times before they resumed a more platonic working relationship, one built on mutual respect and grudging affection like he had with Carter. And yet, as he caught sight of the pair kissing, _Darcy practically in Barnes lap_ , he couldn’t deny a creeping jealousy climbing up his spine. 

The feeling confused him as it’s reasoning wasn’t so clear to him.

Maybe it was a matter of envy, because Barnes was undeniably handsome. And brave. And a soldier. A fighter so unlike Howard who relied on his brain not brawn to prove his worth. Perhaps it was a matter of pride? He was handsome, brilliant, and contributing to the war effort the best way he knew how, in a way more significant than the meager efforts of some random foot soldier. And yet, she was kissing Barnes. Not him.

The feeling of jealousy was one he first felt inklings of last night in the bar, when Darcy so easily inserted herself into the group of boorish soldiers and passed off responsibility for him onto Dugan so she could focus her attentions on Barnes. Yesterday, he’d been able drown out the feeling with liquor, but now, in the light of day, faced with such a similar scene, Darcy and Barnes locked together in a passionate embrace ignoring everyone around them, it wasn’t so easy to dismiss. 

He knew he and Darcy would get along from the moment he met her. 

He’d seen the spark of attraction in her eyes when she’d first looked him over and he’d thought it would lead to an inevitable coming together. But now there was Barnes in the way. 

And when they got some time alone together, he saw how well their personalities complimented each other. She was easy going and saucy, but not dim or weak. He was quick and flirty, but he was serious about helping her. And yet she and Barnes had developed a bond in captivity the likes of which he couldn’t compete with. Worse yet, there existed a heat between the pair which was palpable even to a bystander.

They could help each other, she could make him better and he could make her life easier. If only she wasn’t blinded by Barnes and his broody nonsense. He watched, captivated as Carter and Rogers approached the lip locked pair. Peggy was always reliable to play the wet blanket. A few words and the two were separating, Darcy’s lush lips red and swollen. 

Turning his back on the scene he left the room unnoticed, he’d lost appetite and his throbbing mind craved silence.

With Carter there he was assured no further _bonding_ would occur between the love birds. And with Rogers and his team shipping out by the afternoon he would soon have Darcy all to himself. These feelings of jealousy and inadequacy would be but distant memories. And when that happened he could be confident that his place of importance in Darcy’s life would not only go un-usurped, but grow far beyond the absent soldiers place in her heart.  
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A little before noon Darcy knocked on the door to his room as she let herself inside. “Knock, knock. Hope you’re not masturbating.” 

His persistent headache had diminished significantly with a few hours of solitude and the dim lighting he was using to read by. He was at his desk refreshing himself on the chemistry behind compressible sugar. McGinnis’s request in the back of his mind fueling ideas that needed to be flushed out before he could begin production and testing. 

He threw her an easy smile, “’Fraid not gorgeous. But if you’re willing to give a fella a hand...?”

She laughed feely at the crass joke. He used a piece of paper that outlined some thoughts on molecular nitramene as a bookmark before closing it and turning to give the vibrant woman his full attention. She didn’t look as melancholy as he expected after Barnes departure. “Cap’s team have trouble shipping out?” 

“They haven’t left yet, but soon.” She told him. 

He raised an inquisitive brow at her. “And you’re here because you missed me?” 

“No.” She smiled at him indulgently as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. “You remember yesterday when we were shopping and you convinced me to try on that long gown just for kicks? The one that made me look tall and sucked in my love handles?”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at her waist; the dress she wore now was pink and had a belt around the middle that drew the eye and emphasized her curves. She’d made a few comments while shopping that were self-deprecating and he’d thought she was fishing for compliments at the time, but now he was getting the sense that she truly didn’t understand how delightfully Rubenesque her figure was. 

“Well, even though I told you not to,” She gestured with her hands making him smile as she babbled, “-that I thought the dress was impractical and you were already spending too much money on me--did you by any chance, buy it for me anyway?”

His mouth grew pinched. “No…was I supposed to?” 

She heaved a sigh, “No.” 

He suddenly realized what she was doing there. Folding his arms he looked at her accusingly, but made an effort to keep his tone light and teasing. “You came here to change your outfit for a big dramatic goodbye with Barnes, didn’t you?”

She turned away from to hide her expression as she denied, “No. No, that’s silly.” There was a beat and then she was spinning on her heel and looking at him with open vulnerability, “Unless you think he would like it?” 

He made a show of looking her up and down. The pink dress she wore made her look sinfully sweet. He doubted Barnes cared what she looked like when they said their grand goodbye, just so long as he got to get his grubby little hands on her. 

He disliked the idea of Darcy putting so much thought into so such a frivolous gesture. However, the gesture had served to separate the pair for a time. And if he were to assist her he could prolong the process.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, “You could put on that blue dress, the strapless one with the structured bodice? You called it a wiggle dress?” He shot her a false encouraging grin. “That one would definitely get Barnes blood pumping.” He winked at her, “I know it did for me.” 

She laughed and took a step towards him so she could lightly shove at his shoulder. “You’re such a horny dog Howard.” 

“Just not blind.” He fired back. 

He watched as she went to the bag of clothing and pulled out the dress he had been referring to. “This one?” 

“That’s the one.” He confirmed. She had complained that it was too tight, but the shop girl assured her it fit as it was meant to. He’d told her she looked sensational, but she had merely rolled her eyes at him. The shop girl, probably eager to make the sale, had been the one to convince Darcy to take the dress, arguing that she could layer a sweater on top to tone down the sex appeal or add a shawl should she have an occasion arise where formal wear was required.

She held the dress up and then looked over at him nervously. Her arms lowered and the garment hung limply from one hand as she asked, “Am I being ridiculous?”

“I think every guy appreciates it when a dame puts in effort to look pretty for you.” He answered honestly. 

She threw the dress onto the bed, “No I mean—I know doing a costume change and planning to sing a song to Bucky is ridiculous, I’m committed to acting the fool to make them all smile for a big send off--”

“You’re going to sing?” He interrupted, an amused grin taking over his face. She really was a special kind of person.

She sat down on the bed with a bounce, “Yeah. I was thinking ‘Bye Bye Baby’ from the movie watched, or maybe…I don’t know—admittedly I’m not Adelle, but I was in chorus in high school. I can carry a tune.” 

“I’m not saying you can’t--”

It was her turn to interrupt him. “—And if all else fails I figure I can make it comedic, I mean it’s going to be funny no matter what, but if my singing is really suck I’ll just lean into it.” 

“Sounds like,” He wiped a hand over the lower half of his face, trying to get rid of his smile. “Sounds like you put a lot of thought into giving Barnes a special goodbye.”

“The other commando’s and Steve will be there too.” She informed him. And then her look turned pleading. “And you too. Right?” 

A soft genuine smile overcame him. “If you insist.” 

She nodded, and then looked down at her hands. She pulled off the little lace gloves she had been wearing and set them aside on the bed. Stalling. She was stalling, reluctant to tell him something.

“Sweetheart?” He prompted gently. 

“Bucky asked me to be his girlfriend.” 

The feeling of jealousy he’d suppressed and nearly forgotten as he’d lost himself in his work came roaring back to life. “Ain’t that…swell.”

In a very quiet voice she said, “I kissed him instead of saying yes. …To avoid saying yes.” 

He sat up a little straighter. “Really?” She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes still on her hands, so he couldn’t read her. Didn’t know if she meant…

“He basically asked me to be his exclusive girlfriend, to wait for him until after the war was over, and instead of saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’, I kissed him.”

He bit his tongue so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing as he was wont to do when it came to women and feelings, because he wanted this. He wanted her to come to him and confide in him and trust him above all others. It was so important that he was important to her. And with Barnes leaving and on such a sour needy note, he was sure his place in her life was soon to be secure. 

“We have one last day together and he—he—I didn’t want to fight. Kissing him is easy and distracting, for me and him, and I knew he wouldn’t ask for confirmation if I just kissed the crap out of him. So, I—he doesn’t know that I—it feels like a joke. Or a tragedy. Seriously, how can I be his girlfriend? How can he think that _we_ are a good idea?”

The kissing probably had something to do with it. He thought spitefully, but didn’t say. 

“I feel so stupid. And mean. I’m basically leading him on right? Like we don’t have a future together. We don’t end up together. I know this. I don’t see him for seventy years, and even then it’s only on the internet when Shield gets hacked or whatever.” She spoke to him like he was her truest confidant, her words like a stream of consciousness, unfiltered with raw emotion on display. 

“He’s not going to listen to me.” She said in a low voice, “He’s gonna get on the train and fucking get his arm chopped off and his mind wiped and work for Hydra until—and yeah, I’ve change things but have I changed them enough?”

She paused as if he was supposed to respond but he knew he wasn’t. She was just thinking. She bit her lip and then licked her lips and then continued speaking not noticing his silence at all. “He’s so hot though,” She said softly, “And I thought what’s the harm? And haven’t I earned some—I was tortured, by a mad Nazi scientists and he’s a really good kisser.” Her face softened, “And a good person.” 

She looked up, her eyes focused on the wall just over his shoulder, her eyes were glassy with repressed tears. “He surprised me. He fucking, actually, sat me down and told me how he felt. What he wanted. He was open and honest and straight forward, no games, no agenda—do you know how hard online dating is? …He made himself emotionally vulnerable and I didn’t reciprocate. I deflected and distracted and--and I feel like I’m taking advantage of him.” 

He wanted to join her on the bed and hug her into his side, but he stayed where he was. _The internet. 70 years. Shield. Online dating._ For all the ‘spoilers’ she had given away freely there were things about the future, about technology, she wouldn’t tell him. But in a defenseless moment like this? So he held his tongue and remained seated across from her at the desk.

“I argue with myself that it’s harmless or maybe even beneficial to him, because his future is so bleak. So dark. And bloody and filled with death, I mean—making out with him is not a hardship, but also like, I’m giving him more good memories to hold onto, to remember. And that’s a good thing, right?” She looked at him, finally seeking a response. Or gauging his reaction to what she’d said. He was uncertain so he nodded and tried to look supportive. Thankfully that was all she seemingly needed from him before she went back to talking. 

“I like him. I like him a lot. More than I’ve liked anyone I’ve ever dated. And if we--it won’t screw up the timeline. He doesn’t have a wife out there waiting for him, like you. He doesn’t have a kid that grows up to be a superhero that I’m endanger of unmaking. In my time he’s fucked in the head to be sure, but available and still age appropriate. And, I can’t help but think—what if I’m his Peggy? What if all of this time travel shit is irrelevant and we’re meant to be together? What if the timeline I come from was always meant to be re-written. By me, just because I like him.”

She was in pain but poorly trying to hide it. She looked to him like he had all the answers and he wished it was so.“Or am I being arrogantly delusional?” 

Her inner turmoil was on display with every sorrowful word and suddenly he empathized with her to a devastating degree. He thought he’d made peace with the kind of man he was and the life he was living, but now that he’d met Darcy, now that he knew what kind of person she was…Looking into her big blue sad eyes, he wasn’t so sure knew anything worth knowing. 

“Sweetheart,” He got up from his seat and joined her on the bed. “I think you’re over thinking things.” 

“How can I not?” She said with attitude, but also, a trembling lower lip. 

“You’re stuck here.” He told her plainly, “You don’t know for how long, so planning for the future, for a future in this time period isn’t ridiculous. It’s practical.” 

“I don’t want him to get captured and turned into a weapon. That’s all I can think of. It’s all that matters.” She confessed with a sniff. “I need him to believe me and listen to me.” 

“He doesn’t get it.” His words sounded harsh but they were the truth she needed to hear in that moment, “He won’t listen to you. He’ll get on that train and it will all happen exactly like you said. He’ll fall into enemy hands if you leave it up to him.” 

She growled, “Well fuck Howard, tell me how you really feel.” And then she was turning away, folding her arms hotly while simultaneously and discreetly wiping at one cheek. 

“You shouldn’t be spending your last hour with Barnes and his team here with me, worrying over what fucking dress to wear or which song to serenade him with. You’re gorgeous as is and he doesn’t need you to hide how you really feel. He’s a man, he can take it. And—Darcy you’re the most honest person I’ve ever met. Don’t disappoint me and wilt now.” 

She turned back to him and glared. Her anger was blatant but he didn’t let it deter him. What he was saying now wasn’t what was best for him; his words were for Darcy’s sake and to deny them would be to betray her. 

“You should make Dugan swear to you that he won’t let Barnes on the train. Dugan believes in you, in your story. He’ll intercede upon your behalf. And just for insurance you should have a conversation with Rogers, make sure he understands his best friend _will effectively die_ unless he prevents it. By listening to you.” 

Dawning horror and joy played across her features like a sunrise. She grabbed him suddenly, her hand gripped his and squeezed tightly as she whispered, “Howard Stark, you’re a genius.” 

“I know.” He told her without his usual bravado.

“Thank you.” She was up and off the bed in a flash; she took two steps towards the door but then stopped suddenly and spun around. Shoving his shoulder she tugged at something underneath him. 

“What?” He asked as he allowed himself to be moved. 

“Howard--get off my dress, you’re right about everything, but I’m a dramatic bitch and I can take five minutes to change my outfit and touch up my make up.” 

Laughing he watched her disappear into the bathroom.  
.  
.  
.  
“Cutting it a little close aren’t you dollface?” Barnes called out to Darcy. Her dress’s narrow skirt restricted movement like running and the elegant shoes affected her balance, so they were once again linked at the arms as they made their slow but steady approach. Behind Barnes, Rogers and his team were loading up a truck with the gear they’d be taking with them. 

“But I’m worth the wait, right?” She called back, disengaging her arm from his so she could give a little spin. She took a few ill-advised steps towards Barnes and tripped, but it worked out because the solider had been jogging to greet her since they came into sight, and he caught her. Sweeping her up into his arms he planted a desperate, needy kiss on her lips. 

“My shoes are pretty but stupid. And now, that they’ve served their purpose in making me look good before we say goodbye…” She kicked the heels off her feet carelessly letting them thud to the ground. Barnes laughed and kissed her again before carrying her the last of the way to the building the men were stationed in front of. 

The weight of Darcy’s bag was heavy on his shoulder as he paused to gather her discarded footwear. Apart from her and the soldiers, he watched the men gather round Darcy. She was put down on her feet and fawned over by the burly group. She beamed under their adulation. 

He couldn’t quiet hear what was being said, the wind was whistling today, but the crowd laughed as Darcy said something funny. She used her hands to emphasize her point and he saw Barnes blush as he other’s laughter turned mocking.

Turning away from her admirers, Darcy sought him out with her eyes. “Howard!” She yelled, “Stop lollygagging!” 

He smiled falsely as a reflex. He could tell she was performing for the groups benefit and he responded in kind. He’d noticed how she had a tendency to downplay things, make jokes, or deflect attention when uncomfortable or nervous. Perhaps that is why their honest conversations were so affecting. With him, she didn’t need to put on a show. And now, when they’d come to do just that, she wanted him close to give her strength….or perhaps she just didn’t want to be rude by excluding him. The relief on her face as he grew close enough for Dugan to reach out and slap him on the back, told him the answer. 

Her plastic smile grew tense as she looked to him with pleading eyes. He nodded at her encouragingly. He watched as she took a deep breath and then turned on Rogers. “So, before you guys ship out I kind of need to talk to you. Alone.” 

“Me?” Rogers squeaked, his eyes flickering over to Barnes. “Why?” 

“Let’s go over there and I’ll tell you.” She said to Rogers before turning to Barnes and lifting up onto the balls of her feet so she could peck him on the lips, “Five minutes. K?” 

The solider could only nod as she was already turning away from him to take Rogers by the arm and pull him towards the other side of the building. 

Dugan lightly slapped him on the stomach with the back of his hand and then pointed after the pair. “What’s that all about?”

“Don’t worry,” He told the soldier, “Your turns next.” 

“What?” 

“Why don’t you all finish loading up the truck?” He suggested, “When Darcy’s done making you all paranoid with one on one conversations, she wants to put on a little—ya know, I don’t even want to spoil it. Just, expect her to take up to a half an hour of your time. So it’s best to be ready to depart as soon as she’s through.” 

The men started to protest, most of them asking questions pressing for answers, but Barnes cut them off. “Hey, he’s right. Darcy said she wanted to give all of us something, and that we should budget our time accordingly, finish gearing up while I have a word with Stark.” 

He wasn’t given a choice or a chance to say anything as Barnes took him by the arm and marched him to the other side of the building, as far away from Darcy as possible. Barnes threw him into the wall demanding, “Talk.” 

“About what. Mechanical engineering, automotive innovation? Pick a topic, I can go on for hours.” He could see Barnes clenching his jaw, and as satisfying as it was to get the man’s goat, he knew being an ass to Darcy’s sweetheart wasn’t the smartest course of action. Straightening up so he wasn’t leaning pathetically against the wall, he met the man’s eyes and asked, “What do you want to know, Barnes?” 

“Why is Darcy talking to Steve?” 

“To make sure you don’t get on the train.” He answered easily even though it annoyed him how nebulous this train mission was being referred to as. Darcy did not know why they were on their team was on the train in the first place, when it happened, or where it happened, and so it was simply referred to as ‘the train’. 

“Why do you think she’ll want to talk to Dugan next?” The man was tense but stoic as he fired out his clipped questions. Howard could read nothing of the man’s emotions. And so he continued to answer honestly. 

With a smirk he told him, “To make sure you don’t get on the train.” 

Annoyance flickered across the man’s expression briefly before he turned to walk away. 

“Hey, wait,” Howard reached and clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I wanna say something to you.” 

“I think I’ve heard enough.” Barnes brushed off his hand and started to walk away. Not so easily offended, Howard hurried to get out in front of him. 

“Stop.” He ordered, putting a hand to the man’s chest. “Just give me a minute.” 

Barnes knocked the hand away, “Why? So you can brag about how you’re going to steal my girl while I’m out fighting to put an end to this war that you’re profiting from?” 

His words felt like a slap in the face, but Howard was quick to shake them off. “So I can apologize.” 

“Really?” Barnes said sounding skeptical. 

“I was drunk last night and said some thing’s…tactlessly.” 

“Said things tactlessly? Meaning there still true, you just regret how you worded them?” Barnes was full of hostility as he huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

“I think Darcy’s beautiful.” He said, his words plain. “I think she’s kind. And open in a way, in a way people normally aren’t.” 

“What are you driving at Stark?” Barnes demanded. His eyes on fire as he glared relentlessly. 

“She’s a good person.” He said with a half smile, “I’ll try to keep her safe while you’re gone.”

“And?” 

“And that’s it.” Feeling awkward, Howard slipped his hands into his pants pockets. 

Quietly, the other man accused. “You said you wanted her.” 

“I do.” He admitted, “But she wants you.” 

For a brief moment, relief was visible in Barnes eyes, and he felt shame for toying with his mind in the first place. 

“Thank you.” Barnes said softly. “I know—it’s a comfort to know she has you on her side. That you’ll take care of her when I..can’t.” It was a moment, a real authentic moment between the two of them. Like last night, but with different motivations on both their parts. 

Emotion lodged in his throat he nodded at the soldier, an understanding suddenly solid between them. 

A shout caught their attention as Darcy grabbed Dugan and Morita by the wrists, hustling the men over to a corner for their own private conversation. Letting go of Dugan briefly, she used two fingers to point at her eyes and then over to him and Barnes, as if to say ‘I’ve got my eyes on you’. The gesture and the comically serious pucker on her face made him laugh even as he recognized she was performing again. 

Not taking his eyes off her, even as she turned her back on them, he spoke to Barnes in a clear and steady voice. “To be clear, if she’s not drunk or crying her eyes out, and she makes a pass at me I’m not going to turn her down out of respect to you.” He tore his eyes away from her backside to meet the man’s gaze straight on. “For me, opportunity almost always trumps morality.” 

Barnes snorted at that. “Consider me warned, Stark.”  
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He made small talk with the Commando’s as two by two Darcy had private conversations with the rest of them. And then they all grew uncomfortable as they listened to Darcy and Barnes have a heated and then suddenly extremely quiet conversation only punctuated by the smacking of lips. 

Finally when all her goodbye’s had been said, all of her warnings and arguments made, Darcy lined up the men, put in her ‘ear buds’, playing music only she could hear. “This is one of my favorite songs and you guys, leaving, it seemed appropriate so…just don’t laugh at me okay?” 

And then she sang along, performing for them. 

At first, she was hesitant, her voice shaky and her movements stilted. Her dancing was little more than a shuffle from side to side, and despite promising not to laugh a few of the guys couldn’t help but snicker at her. However, halfway through the song she closed her eyes and hummed a few lines instead of singing. When she opened her mouth again, the performance changed. 

“I wanna see your animal side  
Let it all out  
Oh there you go, undress to impress  
You can wear the crown, but you’re no princess-he-hess  
So put the “D” in “dirt” now, baby, baby  
Let’s get you wasted and alone”

There was confidence in her body and strength behind her words. She stayed in tune. She loosened up. It was easy to see she was now having fun. 

‘Cause we are alive  
Here in dealth valley  
But don’t take love off the table yet  
‘Cause tonight  
It’s just fire alarms and losing you  
We love a lot  
So, we only lose a little  
We are alive  
We are alive”

And just as suddenly as the performance became lively and full of energy, it changed again. Her voice still strong and on tune, dropped low. She pointed at Barnes as she sang.

“We’re gonna die  
It’s just a matter of time  
Hard time come  
Good times go  
I’m either gone in an instant  
Or here ‘til the bitter end  
I, I never know”

As the tempo picked up again, she started strutting up and down the line of men handing out hugs and accepting kisses, all while maintain the song. He wondered how she could move so fluidly, uncaring that her feet were bare and dirty and cold.

“What I’ve got will make you feel more alive  
I’ll be your favorite drug, I will get you high  
I will get you high”

When she reached Barnes who was standing next to him, he being the end of the line, the song had ended. And Darcy was crying and no longer performing. Each man having peeled off and gotten in the truck after giving Darcy their last farewell, the three of them were relatively alone. 

She grabbed Bucky’s lapel and just held on, crying. He tried to soothe her. “Dollface, don’t cry.”

“You made me care about you.” She told him through the tears, “You better fucking not die. Or get captured.”

“I’ll try not to.” He whispered before he swooped in and stole her breath away with his kiss. 

For Howard, who was standing literally shoulder to shoulder with the man, it was intensely awkward. To avoid staring at the lip locked couple he shifted his gaze to the truck. Rogers was at the wheel. Their eyes met and silently, Rogers laughed at him and his predicament. He mouthed the words “fuck you’ at Captain America, making the man crack and laugh openly. 

“I gotta go.” Barnes whispered against her lips. She was shaking as he pulled away from her. And the second he totally broke contact with her body, she turned and threw herself at Howard. 

She was shaking, but not crying anymore. He assumed she was overwhelmed and just needed to know she wasn’t alone. So he wrapped her up in his arms and held her close. As he did, a look passed between him and Barnes. He looked in pain, like the sight of Darcy in his arms caused him physical pain. 

He gave the solider a nod, silently telling him to go, that she’d be okay. Barnes nodded back and then he was jogging for the truck.

Once the truck was out of sight he let Darcy have one more minute of hiding. Then he pushed her back by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. “You want to go wallow in my room? Or do you want to go to work?” 

She was quiet for a moment before answering, “I think I want to take a nap and then get to work.”

A small smile lifted his lips, he nodded and pulled her in to kiss her forehead. “Okay.” He ducked down to pick up her shoes and then shoved them into her hands. “Okay.” 

With one arm slung around her shoulders, he led her back to the building.  
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One and a half weeks after Barnes and the Commando’s left, Howard had to fire Darcy from his team. She was a terrible lab assistant, she had no idea what she was doing and no grasp on the fundamentals of weapons design, and while he sort of enjoyed getting to teach her things it led to a backlog of work building up and the higher ups were starting to notice. 

If that weren’t bad enough, the other scientists hated having her in the lab. They found her loud and annoying, and worst of all distracting. There had been so many comments about taping her mouth shut so they could enjoy the view…That was actually partly his fault, as he made it very clear to her that he didn’t care how she dressed and in fact encouraged her love of bright colors and bold style. Carter on the other hand was constantly trying to get her to blend in, conform, and not draw attention to herself. However, Darcy seemed to rebel against that very notion with her every decision.

She was so unlike the women of this era. Even Carter, who was far more progressive and powerful than most, couldn’t hold a candle to the way Darcy carried herself. Everything she did set her apart from other women, not just the way she dressed, it was the way she did her hair, the crass way she talked, the way she often _talked back_ to those in authority over her. She was also free, with her kindness and affection. And even those who hated having her around while they were trying to work, freely admitted they liked her as a person. Because she was beautiful and charming and a very good listener. 

And while Howard loved Darcy just the way she was, she _had_ caused an explosion through carelessness and he really couldn’t justify keeping her on staff after that. 

Carter tried to get her hired by Colonel Phillips, but he’d heard of her reputation by then and no one in the military would touch her as an assistant, a secretary, or an errand girl. In fact, by making the inquiry (and maybe also the explosion she caused) her presence on site was not only put into question but threatened. 

It had taken all of his influence and Carter’s social currency to not have Darcy sent back to the states the day of her explosive accident. After all without a job or being enlisted, she didn’t really have a place being so close to so many important people. The fact that they were bunking together probably didn’t help. 

From the Brass’s perspective, she was a wacky inventor who got snatched up by Hydra due to a fluke, but somehow endeared herself to their side’s brightest mind. And that made her if not dangerous, then a liability. 

So, for a week she stayed sequestered in Howard’s—at this point it really was _their_ room. What she did all day, he didn’t know for sure but when he came back every night her laptop was always charging and hot to the touch. As were her other devices. However, by the seventh day he could tell she was going a little crazy. And by then Brass were all but breathing down his neck about her. 

He asked Carter to come over so they could brainstorm what to do about Darcy’s predicament. 

“Maybe I can get a job as a cashier.” From her bored tone and posture one could almost assume she wasn’t invested in the conversation at all. Darcy lay head to foot with him on their small bed, her head hanging down off the edge keeping her expression out of sight. 

“There aren’t many shops left after all the bombings,” Carter informed her from her position leaning against Howard’s desk. “And those that are, aren’t hiring foreign girl’s who don’t know the job.”

Indignant she countered, “Hey, I can count and sell things.” 

“You know what I mean.” Carter said, as she pulled out Howard’s chair and sat in it heavily. Privaately, he and Carter had been working on the problem of Darcy’s placement all week to no avail. They’d made dozens of inquires about jobs and lodgings, but this wartime. She was as devastated as he to learn that money really couldn’t solve everything. “Besides,” Peggy added, “I’d rather keep you close by if possible.” 

Peggy was still unbelieving of Darcy’s alien time travel story, but her tech, Carter now believed her tech was real and dangerous, as was Darcy if she was unleashed upon the unsuspecting world. He’d noticed a grudging respect building between the women but knew Peggy wouldn’t fully commit to the impossible being true until she had no alternative. And brilliant but brain damaged lost woman was her current theory. 

Silence descended on the three of them. Until, he had an idea. 

“I could hand over one of my old inventions and we could say she made it.” Howard suggested. He was absentmindedly massaging Darcy’s feet and as he spoke he let his thumbs rub into the arch of Darcy’s foot causing her to let out a pained but pleasant noise. 

The idea of giving away credit burned his very soul, as did handing over one of his inventions, but with Colonel Phillips breathing down their necks they needed a way to legitimize Darcy being there. “Having her pretend to be a brilliant inventor, beyond her music player, won’t be a hard sell.” 

“One of the one’s you deemed too dangerous to fall into anyone hands?” Carter questioned with a raised brow. “I think not.” 

“Eureka!” Darcy shouted, sitting up and making him jump. “I’ve got it.” She grinned maniacally before her brow scrunched growing thoughtful. 

“Well…?” Peggy prompted. 

“Hold on, she’s thinking.” Howard translated. He was familiar with the way Darcy tended to operate by now. She was all big ideas and flashy concepts with little to no follow through, unless it was really important. She tended not to dwell on things or think about practicality. 

“Colonel Phillips thinks I’m a wacky music player inventor damsel in distress, right? So, you’re right Howard, we should lean into that.” She wasn’t excited in the face, her thinking brow still furrowed, but her voice held giddy enthusiasm. 

“How?” Carter asked, not even trying to hide her distain for the idea already.

“USO girls.” Darcy said cryptically as she worked out the idea fully for herself. “And music.” 

He tried to connect the fragmented dots that was Darcy’s train of thought, but it wasn’t easy. Sometimes he couldn’t follow her because her frame of reference was so foreign to his own, other times it was because she knew more than she was willing to tell and left pieces out on purpose. However this time, it all strung together perfectly and the picture it painted in his mind was absurd. “You want to put on a one woman USO show? Using your…‘ipod’? I thought you said it wouldn’t go louder than your ear buds current setting? And won’t they notice that you’re lip syncing?”

She smiled at him, happy about the connection they shared. He’d gotten it right. Pride swelled in his chest. “Not exactly,” She said before contradicting herself in the next breath, “But yeah.”

Peggy let out a sigh and rubbed at her face tiredly. 

“Aw, don’t look so sad Peggy. Think of it, a nightly one woman show, in the mess hall. A small but awesome way to improve morale! I could contribute to the war effort through song and my sparkling personality.” Like an afterthought she added, “Also, dresses. We’ll need sparkly dresses.” 

“You must be joking.” Carter said in a flat tone. 

Darcy leveled a look at Carter that said, ‘I am disappointed in your lack of imagination’. “I can’t fight. I can’t science. I can’t join the army. No one wants me for their girl Friday. You don’t want me wandering off into the big bad scary world alone. So, what’s left? Me. And my very limited skill set.” 

Some of the joy had bled from Darcy as she laid out the facts for Peggy. “I have awesome boobs and a decent singing voice. And the Brass already think that music is my thing. So if you don’t have a better idea…?”

“Howard.” Peggy said in the familiar exasperated tone she so often used when she said his name. But honestly, he was surprised that she was looking to him to be the voice of reason. 

She really should have known better.

“We’ll have to go shopping.” He said, grinning at Darcy from ear to ear.  
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“I miss your soft lips  
I miss your white sheets  
I miss the scratch of your unshaved face on my cheek  
And this is so hard  
‘Cause I didn’t see  
That you were the love of my life  
And it kills me”

Darcy, in a slinky green dress sang in the corner of the crowded mess hall. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop or the hitch in her voice as she took a breath before belting out the next lyric. 

Like in all things, it was better to ask for forgiveness than permission. So Darcy’s first performance had been little more than her standing on top of a table and singing as well and as loud as she could. The songs she had sung were all fast tempo blood pumping numbers, they riled up the crowd of tired soldiers and scientists alike, and had people clapping along with the beat and dancing on their feet. Even the older men among them were compelled to nod along to the catchy music she produced. 

With a strategy that was more shock and awe and less razzle dazzle, she sang three songs before Colonel Phillips busted into the room demanding an explanation. 

That’s when they pounced with their proposal. Through Phillips they asked the Brass to make Darcy a permanent fixture in the mess hall once a week. If they let her stay on base she in return would sing. It was a simple exchange of goods and services.

They argued that it would improve moral, could be used as a privilege that could be taken away for insubordination and thus be motivation, and best of all, it gave Darcy something useful to do. 

She was magnificent in her manipulation of the seven high ranking military officials they had to go through to get approval for position. She turned on the water works perfectly every time, spoke with disturbing detail about the torture she had suffered at Zola’s hands and how impotent she felt not having a way to contribute to the war effort. And somehow, she convinced two Colonels’, one Brigadier General, three Major Generals, and one Army Chief that letting her sing once a week would be a good thing for the army. 

After a month of special once a week performances, it took two Lieutenants to convince the upper Brass she should sing three times a week. And receive a salary. 

It was pittance to be sure, but a sign of respect for her talents nonetheless. 

And so it became routine. They’d wake up in the morning side by side, she’d lay out his clothes while he used the bathroom, then it was her turn. And then by the time he was dressed she’d emerge just in time to say goodbye. 

He wasn’t sure what she did during the day, practice singing he supposed, but usually around two p.m. she would come by the lab and annoy him to allow them to break for lunch. Sometimes they’d eat with Carter, but most days he just babbled at her about whatever he was working on while he wolfed down his food as quickly as possible. And then late in the night, if she wasn’t performing, he’d find her in their room. 

He usually worked late into the night so they rarely ate dinner at the same time if she wasn’t singing in the mess hall. And if she was awake they’d chat, if not he’d just crawl into bed beside her and pass out. 

It was honestly terrifying how easily they slipped into domesticity. 

Now, as he watched Darcy sing, he could tell something was weighing heavy on her heart. He suspected she’d gotten a letter from Barnes today. Her voice was more soulful than usual. Her song choice more melancholy. 

“They say that true love hurts  
Well this could almost kill me  
Young love murdered  
That is what this must be  
I would give it all not to be sleeping alone, alone”

“Enjoying the show?” Carter asked as she slipped into the empty space behind him, her food tray filled with enough food for two people. He gave her a nod of acknowledgement, but didn’t look away from Darcy as she finished her song. Putting his fingers to his lips he and a few others gave her sharp whistles of appreciation. 

Applause broke out and she spared them all a small smile before it died down enough for her to say, “Thanks guys. I’m going to go eat until I can’t fit into a dress like this ever again.” 

A chuckle of laughter rippled through the crowd and Darcy turned to gather her music player and sound enhancer.

“She sounded a bit sad today.” Carter commented as she took a dainty sip from her cup. “Don’t you think?” 

“Got news from the Commando’s I think.” He explained. 

“Oh.” There was a beat before she added, “Have you heard anything, that I haven’t heard I mean, about the Captain’s progress?”

“I usually hear these things from you Peg, so no.” She looked a little disappointed. He hoped Rogers wasn’t dropping the ball again, and missing out on his chance to woo Carter through correspondence as Barnes was doing with Darcy. 

Darcy approached their table and sat across from them unceremoniously. In her long velvet green dress, she seemed out of place. Her elegance clashed with the drab uniformity all around her. However, when Peggy pushed her tray more in the middle she merely grunted in thanks and dug into the food with vigor. 

“Are you alright sweetheart?” He asked, she was usually giddy after singing, even sad songs. 

“Just tired.” She replied quietly. “And starving.”  
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Two months later Darcy cancelled her first performance ever. He heard though a Lieutenant that she claimed to have taken ill but when he went to see how she was feeling and ask if she needed anything, he found their room empty. 

Except, the odd thing was, her bag was there. On his desk, not even hidden. 

Inside he found all the tech whole and accounted for. His fingerstips danced across the sleek metallic cases of the tech she never let him fully explore. It was temptation to be this close. All the things he had been itching to get his hands on, unsupervised, for so long was right in front of him. He couldn’t help but think it was a test. Or perhaps a mistake. 

Even after all these months, she always had the bag on her or next to her. So finding the bag and not Darcy, it was a big red flag that something was wrong. He knew he should strap the bag across his chest and continue on with his search for Darcy until he found her, locating her now even more urgent than before. 

Mentally he went through the list of likely places he would find her, medical, with Carter, in town at the shops buying a new dress, playing poker with some fresh faced recruits. And yet…despite how close they were now. She still _never_ let him near the tech. To abandon it now felt like walking away from the opportunity of a life time. 

And truthfully, this might be his only chance. 

Unable to help himself he ignored his better instincts and sat at his desk to pull out her laptop. Setting it down, reverently, he lifted the lid, anticipation flooding his veins. Halfway open he stalled, there was a piece of paper waiting for him in between screen and keyboard. And it had his name on it. 

Not even reading it yet, shame flooded his body. He’d failed. It _had_ been a test. A test of his self restraint and loyalty to the first real friend he’d had in decades and he’d failed. The urge to slam the object closed and put it back in the bag without reading the note was strong. 

She would never know, after all. He could pretend he wasn’t weak. He could lie by omission and continue on just as they had before. If he didn’t read it, if he didn’t tell her he succumbed to temptation in the first place… 

With shaking hands he picked up Darcy’s note and read her feminine loping print. 

_HOWARD,_

_I am banking on your lack of restraint and endless curiosity, I left the bag out in hopes it would tempt you to pilfer through it should the worst happen and I not return by show time. If you’re reading this, I’m probably dead in the woods. But DON’T PANIC!!! I’ve drawn you a map and I’m pretty sure I can be revived if you follow these instructions._

“What the fuck?” Howard cried out as he read the rest of Darcy’s insane letter.  
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What Darcy’s wearing when she goes to change her clothes before saying goodbye to Bucky  


Dress she wears when saying goodbye  


Songstress Dress  


Song she serenades the Commando’s with is from Fall Out Boy “Death Valley”

Song Howard and Carter watch her perform is Ke$ha “The Harold Song”

Movie from last chapter was Gentlement Prefer Blondes with Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I used to watch this show on NBC with a cheerleader...and that is the only hint you will get as to what the fuck is going on.
> 
> Also, we will NOT be having lab assistant Darcy. EVERYONE makes her a lab assistant. But, my Darcy needs to have ample free time alone to do...things. And Jazz Singer Darcy (who doesn't actually sing that much jazz) is where I went and I hope you like it.  
> We will not see a lot of Jazz singer Darcy, but I thought it was a fun alternative career and I really needed to justify her somehow just being allowed to live with Howard Stark during wartimes.


	12. Starfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait in between chapters.  
> Mom is now in acute rehab facility, she's been gone since before Thanksgiving so it's been rough and frankly the past few weekends I've just not had the energy to write and instead dusted off my old Roller Coaster Tycoon Game and well, here we are. But rest assured this story won't be abanonded.
> 
> Schedule for regular future updates is suspended until further notice. I will try to update ever weekend, like I like too, but real life is just really annoying right now so I make no promises.
> 
> HOWEVER, tomorrow I have a snow day, so who knows? Maybe I'll be able to write another chapter for Monday? Again, no promises. 
> 
> But thanks for all the support and comments people. I appreciate it.

Chapter 12 – Starfish

The sound of the other men loading up the truck and chatting did nothing to lessen the moment’s significance for her. Kissing Bucky goodbye and good luck was what the word bittersweet was invented for, _not that she was feeling overly dramatic or anything_. Still, Darcy tried her best to memorize the way his lips felt under hers because she was seriously afraid it might be the last time it ever happened. She reveled in the way his hand cupped her cheek. The warmth of his chest pressed against her own. 

As he began to pull away from her she thought, _it’s not enough time_. A few kisses, a handful of conversations, everything that proceeded this moment, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t done with him. She didn’t want him to leave her. 

“I gotta go.” He whispered against her lips. 

“No.” She protested weakly, pulling him back for another deep kiss.

He indulged her but she felt the ticking of a clock racing against them. Everything was moving too quickly and she felt like she was getting whiplash. After all, in the matter of a few short weeks she’d visited an alien planet, befriended a time traveling monster/been abandoned by said monster, become the lab rat for a mad scientist, been tortured, become a murderer, met and befriended historical figures she learned about when she was twelve, and then there was Bucky. He was leaning back, pulling away from her so she gripped the lapels of his jacket to keep him close.

“I gotta go Dollface.” He repeated against her lips. “It’s time.” 

There was so much she hadn’t said that she needed to, because Howard was right, fundamentally she was an honest person. And not telling Bucky about her reservations regarding the future of their relationship, it felt like lying by omission. And because everything about them was ‘new’ it felt like she was being overly dramatic. But she knew she wasn’t. Deep down, she knew there was something special about what was possible between her and Bucky. And it hurt that they didn’t have time to discover what it was.

Howard’s words from earlier ran through her mind. _\--he doesn’t need you to hide how you really feel. He’s a man, he can take it._ She wanted to tell Bucky that she didn’t consider herself his girlfriend, that she had mislead him earlier in the mess hall. She wanted to tell him the truth, about her doubts that he would heed her warnings. She wanted to explain worries that history would play out just as she knew it. She wanted to tell him that if he came back to her, if he survived the train and she ended up stuck in this time permanently, being his girlfriend was what she wanted. And maybe, if she wasn’t stuck here they could begin again in the future.

It was her secret hope and dream and it scared her how much she wanted him because it might not happen. And she’d schooled herself over the years to keep her romantic expectations realistic and low. 

“Doll,” He prompted, pulling back he cupped her cheeks with his hands and looked at her like he was trying to memorize her face. 

It was true she’d done everything she could to save him short of joining the Commando squad herself, and yet it didn’t feel like enough. This moment, this kiss, it all felt like it would never be enough. There was a pit of doubt in her stomach and everything in her being was screaming at her not to say goodbye, because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting. And for the Winter Soldier that sentiment was more than true.

He pressed another kiss to her lips and when he pulled back and said, “Doll” his tone was telling. Time was well and truly up.

“I wish I knew you in the future.” She confessed quietly. 

Unaware of her reservations, Bucky kissed her forehead, promising, “You will.”  
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She was grateful Howard said nothing when she threw herself at him. She just couldn’t watch Bucky get into the truck and drive away from her towards possible doom. She couldn’t block out the sound of his every footstep though. Or the sound of the truck door closing as he got inside. Or the truck’s sticky changing of gears as Steve drove out onto the road. 

Howard was warm and she hid her face in the crook of his shoulder, not crying, but not ready to face reality yet. He let her have one minute before pushing her back by the shoulders and saying, “You want to go wallow in my room? Or do you want to go to work?”

The appeal of work called to her. Getting lost in a mindless task was what she was going to need to get through the gut-eating uncertainty of Bucky’s ultimate fate. But presently, she felt wrung out from all this emotional bullshit. “I think I want to take a nap and then get to work.” 

A small smile lifted his lips and she was grateful once again when he accepted her request with ease. He nodded and pulled her in close to kiss her forehead, the echo of Bucky’s action earlier caused her to shiver but she wasn’t sure why. 

Strangely, it was a struggle to let herself care about Bucky, but with Howard it was the exact opposite. “Okay.” 

She watched listlessly as Howard picked up her shoes and handed them over forcing her to carry her own shit. 

“Okay.” He repeated, slinging his arm around her shoulders.  
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The next morning Howard had been practically vibrating with anticipation as they finished off their morning coffee. She was going to work with him in Strategic Scientific Reserve lab and she didn’t know how to get him to temper his excitement because it could only end in disaster.

As Howard led her through the facility she tried to mentally sketch the layout, but it was all so blah colored and not labeled that she wasn’t confident she could even navigate her way back the way they had come without a guide. 

“You’re gonna love it Darce,” Howard said as he stopped her before the heavy metal doors of the lab. He brushed some invisible dust off her shoulders and licked his finger before smoothing a hair back into place under her scarf. 

Wanting to make a good first *official impression, she’d let Howard pick out she would wear and he seemed more nervous about the outfit than she did. She’d been a little dismayed when he covered up his own high end clothing with a white work-jumpsuit but didn’t offer her the same opportunity, because really if she was going to be any help to him at all it was most likely going to be a scenario where she gots covered in grime whilst holding a flashlight or forking over tools as he asked for them. 

“This is going to be great.” He said like it was an affirmation. A second later he’s eyes ran up and down her body and he nodded to himself. “You look good. Professional. Just—just keep your shoulders back and be confident.” 

She chose brutal honesty to burst his bubble. “You need to lower your expectations Howard. I am not like you. I am not a scientific genius. I am lackey. An Igor, if you will. I am very good at people and time management, I have excellent organizational skills and I have a knack for seeing the big picture when it comes to big convoluted science stuff, but that’s about it. I don’t know the period table of elements. Or Newton’s laws of physic. Or the Pythagorean theorem. Or like, any mechanical engineering stuff. ”

“The Pythagorean theorem is math.” Howard pointed out with a nervous twitch of his mustache.

“I’m not great with that either.” She admitted. And it was true. She’d never been bad at math per say, but with modern calculators and google and the knowledge that some very smart black ladies had hand written out books and books of calculations to get a man on the moon, well, she wasn’t certain she could measure up to the standard of basic science/math knowledge Howard was expecting of her. 

Howard waved her off. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is.” 

“Well, I’m sure you know more than you think.” He argued, “Just inherently based off when you come from, you’ll probably be leagues ahead of my lesser colleges.” 

She gave him a flat stare. “I say again Howard. Lower. Your. Expectations.”

With a roll of his eyes Howard let her into the lab and exclaimed, “Welcome to where the real war is being fought, sweetheart.” 

The room was large and had many work stations peppered throughout, interesting weapons and—other weird stuff were laid out on the tables being tinkered with. With a quick sweeping gaze she realized immediately she was the only woman in the room and more than that she was the only one not wearing a lab coat or work-jumpsuit like Howard. She literally couldn’t fit in less if she had tried. 

Even though it was only 8:30 in the morning everyone looked alert and deep into whatever project they were working on. When she looked over at Howard she could easily read the irritation on his face. “What is it?” 

He didn’t answer her, just loudly cleared his throat and called out, “Hey fella’s!” 

Darcy winced as she realized he was expecting more of a reaction from their dramatic entrance. “Howard, no--”

Heedless of her reaction Howard slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close to his side as he addressed the men in the room. Most of who looked irritated by the interruption. “This is Darcy. She’s our new lab assistant.” He paused for a beat as if waiting for a response. When none came he continued but with a hint of asperity in his tone. “She was tortured by Zola and held with the 107th.” 

At this news she saw a few of the scientists actually put down their tools and give Howard more of their attention. His tone of voice shifted, reverting to his showman persona. “She’s had a rough time of it and I aim to give her a job with Stark Industries when the war is over.” 

Darcy’s hand reflexively grabbed at the back of Howard’s jumpsuit. With a plastic smile in place on her lips she quietly whispered to him, “What are you doing?” 

Annoyingly, he ignored her and continued to address his fellow nerds, his voice losing its schmoozy charm only to be replaced with sincerity as he went on. “She’s got a good mind for science but admittedly not a lot of practical knowledge, however her time with Zola, painful as it was, gives her insight into the enemy we can utilize as we try to understand their technology. Be patient with her. If she asks you a question, answer it. If she doesn’t understand, explain it in layman’s terms. Don’t dismiss her just because she’s a woman and don’t ignore her because you’re busy. She has my respect and all I’m asking is you to give her the chance to earn yours.”

The last of what he said were obviously orders and Darcy saw a few scientists nodding in acceptance but others looked like they were being forced to swallow something distasteful as they picked up their tools and got back to work. 

“Did you really have to do that?” She questioned as the attention on them waned. Howard led her over to the far wall where she’d seen him working the other day when she found the lab by chance. “And if so, why not warn me?” 

He muttered out a quick ‘sorry’ but chose to occupied himself instead of answering her questions. She watched as Howard got a tool box out and pulled out a few select items, carefully lining them up next to the machine that was in pieces on the table top. Finally, he looked up at her. 

There was a hard look in his eyes but he reached out to touch her arm softly. In a low voice not meant to be overheard by his fellow scientists he said, “I didn’t want them getting any funny ideas about who you are or why you’re here.” 

It clicked in her brain. “You didn’t want them thinking I’m a dumb whore.” 

“Jesus!” He exclaimed his eyes darting around to the people around them. “Keep your voice down with language like that in public, will ya?” 

A smile bloomed. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

He glared at her, but there was an amused quirk to his lips that he couldn’t hide. “Yeah well, just try to keep your ogling to a minimum. Can’t have you contradicting my story, just ‘cause I’m so irresistible when in my element.”

The joke had her laughing out loud and her reaction made Howard smile for real. He was partially correct. In his element, Howard was kind of irresistible. Reaching out she ran her hand thorough is hair and messed it up causing him to frown. “I think I got you wrong Stark, you’re not a fuckboi. You’re the goddamn Fonz.” 

She all but cackled at his confused expression. “…is that better?”

Fonzie looked like a bad boy, acted like a fuckboi, but had a heart of gold, loved the Cunningham’s, and did the impossible by jumping over a shark on water skis. If that didn’t scream Hoard Stark she didn’t know what did. 

However instead of explaining her 1950’s Happy Days reference she just did double thumbs up and said, “Ayyyyy.”  
.  
.  
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The first couple days working at the lab she stuck close to Howard. He was patient and kind as he explained how they were attempting to reverse engineer Hydra’s Tesseract fueled tech. And while it was interesting, she didn’t see how she could contribute to the effort. Beyond flashlight holding or fetching tools as needed.

Howard tried to ignore her very valid concerns, saying she was just starting out and she needed time to adjust, but it was clear to her that he just got perverse pleasure out of the teacher/student dynamic they had going on. Especially when he got to boast about his own inventions and show off his more creative weaponry, most of which was not yet field ready or was too expensive to produce wide scale. 

When she overheard a couple of random scientists stressing out about the backlog of work building up due to Starks ‘pet’ she realized she was doing it again. Changing history, just by existing. 

On her fourth day in the lab she put her foot down. “I’m not helping.” 

Howard, hands covered in grease and deep inside some sort of machine didn’t even look up at her as he replied. “Give it time.” 

“We don’t have time.” She said sternly, “ _You_ don’t have enough time to fuck around with me and get your job done.” 

He looked up at that. She saw the truth written all over his face. He knew. He knew she was taking up more of his time than was probably healthy for the war effort, not to mention the timeline.” He tried to assure her, “We’ll find you something more suited to your abilities, don’t throw in the towel yet Darce.”

He made to pull out of the machine’s innards but she put a hand on his shoulder keeping him where he was. “I’m good with people remember?” 

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning her back on him to survey the other men in the room. “I’ll find some way to make myself useful.”

She drifted from station to station, making simple inquiries about what each man was working on. Most seemed to perk up at her arrival and interest, a few were gruff and obviously annoyed at being interrupted, but on the whole they were all polite. Especially when she asked more personal questions in an effort to get to know them better. 

Eventually she found one man, younger than most of the other men in the room, working on some mindless soldering and after observing him for a few minutes she asked, “Can I help?”

The guy seemed surprised by the offer and flushed pink in the face when she leaned over giving him a quick glimpse down her shirt. “I really want to be useful and this seems like something I can handle. So…can I?” 

The guy practically leapt out of his chair to accommodate her. And after a few tense minutes of hovering and gentle correction on what she had to do the man took out another machine and set to tinkering. 

It was a very awesome feeling, being useful, contributing in a meaningful way. By the next day the task had become so easy for her she was able to have animated conversations with her co-worker as she completed the task. 

The guy who gave her a soldering iron and a chance to prove herself, warmed up to her pretty quickly. Working technically under his supervision, she got to know him a little. His name was Sherman and he had a girlfriend back home in the states he was hoping to marry once the war was over. 

In her excitement to make a new friend and have a conversation where she didn’t have to lie, she learned all about his lady love. They were childhood sweethearts and he was nervous because she was young and beautiful and hadn’t written him in ages. She gave him advice and asked him about his childhood and family. However, when he returned the favor, putting her on the spot to come up with a full back-story she accidentally soldered his hand, causing him to fall backwards and somehow…impale himself on a screwdriver…in his left butt cheek.

With Sherman out of commission for a few days and unable to supervise her work she  
was not so subtly moved to another station and instructed to focus on her work and not spend her time gabbing like she was at the beauty parlor. Dr. McKellan, after some prompting from Howard, took her on next. 

McKellan was an older balding man who didn’t leer at her once. He set her up with some menial task rewiring some…she wasn’t actually sure what it was, but it was some machine part and she had to unhook the red wires from the blacks and put them black to black and pull out the red completely. It was a mindless task and after a time it became muscle memory to unroll, unroll, rewhirl, rewhirl, snip, pull, add to the pile of reds. 

She hardly had to pay attention to it, which gave her mind time to wander. Which was bad. So, she started bringing in her ipod to occupy her thoughts as she worked. She tried to only mouth along to the songs but sometimes she couldn’t help but belt out a chorus or two. And though she got some looks for the tapping and wiggling in her chair as she bopped along to music only she could hear, most of the scientist seemed to be used to her loud personality and in some cases amused by her antics. 

She could only imagine what it was normally like working under someone as intellectually intimidating as Howard, in such a tense and serious atmosphere no less. She liked to think she brought a little color and fun to their otherwise dreary but essential work. 

And really, she thought she’d found her place. Listening to the music all day allowed her mind to remain preoccupied, keeping her hands moving gave her something do with all her anxious energy, it seemed like a perfect fit. 

Honestly, having a job, having something to contribute, not being this anchor around Howard neck…it was everything. It made waking up day after day to a world she didn’t recognize, easier. A week and a half into her time in the lab she had just started to feel optimistic about everything when it all blew up in her face. 

Literally. 

Sherman, who’d only just returned to work that day, caught her by surprise when he yelled, “McKellan! LOOK!” 

He was loud enough to reach her ears through the music she was listening to and the panic laced in his voice had everyone in the room on high alert. Dr. McKellan who just stopped calling her ‘girl’, looked up from the large machine he had been working on. The back half of it was smoking. “Oh, my.”

A second later, it was on fire. 

“FIRE!” Sherman yelled as he ran from the room. Several other scientists were hot on his heels and Darcy couldn’t help but wonder if that was protocol or they were just cowards.

Dr. McKellan had an annoyed look on his face but he dutifully backed away from the machine he had been tinkering with. When his back collided with her table and he looked down at her he had a shaken look on his face. She couldn’t help but quip, in a pathetic attempt to comfort him. “So, that’s not supposed to happen?”

From the other side of the room Howard tried to keep everyone cool by quickly grabbing up a fire extinguisher and proclaiming, “I got it. I got it.” His eyes scanned the room looking for the source of alarm. When he saw it was McKellan’s experiment he muttered, “Oh shit.” 

The fire extinguisher dropped to the floor with a thud as Howard shouted loudly, “Everyone out! NOW!”

So focused on Howard Darcy gasped when McKellan gripped her shoulders and shook her demanding, “What did you do, you stupid child!?”

“Nothing!” She defended as she got to her feet. Everyone was hustling towards the exit, some pausing to collect an armful of whatever they were working on, but most just trying to escape.

“What’s the big deal?” Darcy asked as McKellan grabbed up his notebooks and other material. “It’s just a little fire, no big. We can--” 

McKellan turned on her and snarled, “It’s a bomb you idiot!”

“What?!” She squeaked in a high pitched voice. 

“We have to get outside the lab so they can shut the blast door.” She tried to help McKellan gather his research papers, but he just pushed her with his shoulder growling, “Don’t touch anything else.” 

“Darcy! McKellan!” Howard yelled from the door, “MOVE IT!”

“Why are we running away?” She demanded, grabbing on to McKellan’s shirt sleeve she forced him to stop and look at her. “Put the fire out! Stop the bomb! This doesn’t make any sense!” 

The anger drained from McKellan’s face and body. He dropped an armful of his papers and grabbed her arm instead, dragging her with him towards the door he explained, “I built it around the Tesseract powered core that fuels the Hydra weaponry we’ve been studying. I don’t know how it works, so I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t even know how long until the fire reaches the core and causes the--”

“Finally!” Howard exclaimed when they were within range of door. However, before they could walk through it a loud bang sounded behind them. 

All she felt was heat on her back before she went flying forward. McKellan slammed into Howard breaking the older man’s fall and she slammed into the metal door. Head first.  
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“I knew it!” McKellan shouted as he sifted through the rubble that was her former work station. 

“What?” She asked, curious as anyone else as to how the explosion had occurred.

McKellan held out a black wire. “I knew it!” He snarled shaking the small object at her, “I knew it was your fault!”

“What are you talking about?” Howard asked in a pointed tone. They were surveying the damage the explosion had caused, surprisingly the only thing truly destroyed seemed to be McKellan and Darcy’s work stations. Everything else was just a little dirty.

As McKellan began shouting at her and Howard, Darcy realized how the fire started. “How could you be so reckless to let a little girl, an unqualified and careless _child_ into our lab?”

McKellan was holding a black wire. “I told you letting her stay would only lead to trouble!” 

She looked down at the pile of red wires he had picked it up from. “Stark, is she really so good in bed you can ignore common sense?!”

“Oh shit.” Darcy gasped, she’d made a simple mistake and it nearly put the greatest minds in the Allied forces at risk. Staring at the black wire in McKellan’s hand she whispered to herself, “Oh, no. It really was my fault.” 

“Don’t let this jackass get in your head sweetheart.” Howard let his arm slip around her waist but she could feel how tense he was. This was bad. This was really, really, bad. 

“No you don’t understand Howard--” Her eyes were glued to the pile of red wires. She was only supposed to pull out the red wires! And yet, the evidence of her inattention was in the old man’s stubby fingers.

McKellan puffed up as he took in her expression, “Figured it out have you, child?” 

“Sweetheart?” Howard gently grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Sweetheart?” She almost couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, but when he softly said her name, “Darcy?” 

She looked up. She had no choice. Howard was her rock, her biggest ally and advocate and she had let him down. His big brown eyes were full of concern and she felt like such an asshole because, here Howard was, worried about her when it was _she_ who nearly killed him. “You need to fire me.” 

“Here, here!” McKellan cheered grimly. Turning his back on them, he grumbled as he set to cleaning up the mess she had made.

“No.” Howard said, “No, I’m not going to--”

“Howard.” She said his name sharply and she watched as his shoulder’s deflated. “This is serious. I screwed up. I messed up the wires which led to the thing overheating and that caused the fire. The fire caused the explosion. It was my fault.”

“But-”

“I can’t work here anymore. What you do in this room is too important….Fire me.” 

There was so much sadness written across his face as Howard said, “Okay. You’re right…You’re fired.” 

She inhaled sharply. She’d told him to do it, but the words; she’d never been fired before. And certainly not for gross negligence. It was not only a blow to her pride, but a wakeup call about how carelessly she’d been acting this whole time in the past. 

“I’ll be in your room.” She told him quietly. Keeping her head down she left the lab as quickly as she could without actually looking like she was running away.  
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In the aftermath of the explosion the military brass started questioning her presence. Peggy tried to get her another job on site, but no one would have her after what she’d done. And frankly, Darcy didn’t blame them. 

She hid in Howard’s room for a week, just wallowing in self pity and being super depressed in general.

“You need to get out of bed.” Howard told her on the seventh day. He’d come back to the room on his lunch break and seemed dismayed to find her exactly as he had left her that morning. Re-watching videos of her friends on her phone. 

“I have nowhere to go, therefore no reason to get out of bed.” She responded dully.

Howard threw a bar of soap at her head. Instead of saying ‘ow’ or getting riled up by the action, she merely looked at it where it had fallen onto the bedspread, then looked up at Howard, then went back to looking at her phone. 

The video of Thor chugging a milkshake made up of pretzels, ice cream and bacon was far more interesting than taking a shower so she could…what? Come back to bed and do exactly what she was doing now? It was pointless. And the very idea of getting up and moving made her tired.

Howard huffed in frustration then grabbed the blanket and ripped it away from her demanding, “Snap out of it! Get up!” 

Super annoyed about being exposed to the chilly air when she was only wearing Howard’s boxers and her LOTR t-shirt, she glared but refused to meet his energy. Unmoving, she questioned, “Why? For what purpose?”

“For what purpose? To live you crazy dame!” Howard climbed on the bed and reached for her, but she read his intentions easily. Flipping onto her belly she stuck her phone down her shirt and protected it with her boobs. “Darcy!”

“I will literally--probably get deported if I leave this room.” She grabbed the pillow and pulled it over the back of her head to block out what ever Howard was going to say next. It didn’t work of course, she could still hear him, but it did send visually send a message.

“Darcy!” Howard shouted her name and she cringed at the frustration in every syllable. She wished he would just go away so she could continue to languish in peace. After all there were legitimate reasons why she was in exile. And…a good argument could be made for her remaining there indefinitely. 

Everyone else would certainly be safer. 

“Darcy,” This time when he said her name it was as a sigh. And then she felt the comforting weight of him as he lay out on the bed next to her. “I don’t know what to do.” He put his hand on her lower back briefly before removing it and muttering, “Peg’s tried, I’ve tried, and now everyone is questioning you’re place here and--”

Peeking at him from underneath the pillow Darcy frowned. The guilt she felt following the accident had been like a constant cloud over her head this past week, and looking at Howard now she felt that cloud grow darker. 

Howard looked rough. His hair was a mess and not styled at all. He hadn’t shaved, probably in a few days, and now stubble surrounded his mouth and jaw. She hadn’t even noticed. She slept in the same bed as him, but he’d been letting her sleep and she pretended to be asleep when he returned late at night. And while the manly stubble was kind of hot, he looked disheveled in a way she had never seen him in real life, or the history books. 

His shirt was even wrinkled, and it was noon!

Throwing the pillow on to the ground she turned onto her side and reached out a hand to his face. He didn’t move, but tracked the movement with his eyes. She let her fingertips graze the hair just under his lower lip, then down along his jaw. He almost looked like Tony, but like, wrong and a hobo version. 

She let her hand fall limply onto his chest and just looked at him. Maybe she should go back to the states if this is what happened to the people around her who gave a crap.

“I’m sorry I pushed you into the lab, I thought--” He shook his head, “I don’t know what I thought.” 

Moving closer to him, he lifted his arm and allowed her to nestle her head on his chest. Quietly she told him, “It wasn’t your fault. It was all mine.”

“It was a mistake. A simple mistake, Darce. You need to stop beating yourself up over it.” Howard pressed a kiss to her smelly head, “No one died. Nothing was lost that can’t be rebuilt.”

“Yeah,” She said darkly. “This time.” 

For a couple minutes he just held her while she wallowed in guilt and regret. And then he slapped her ass saying, “Okay. Time to get up.” 

“Howard!” She tried to protest but he had his arms around her now and more muscles. He pulled her off the bed and got her onto her feet causing her phone to fall down to the floor.

“Phone!” She exclaimed, but Howard was too quick. He grabbed it up and held it out of her reach. 

“You need to shower.” He told her plainly.

“You need to give me back my phone.” 

“Not until you shower.” 

“Uggh.” She didn’t want to fight. Turning she flopped down on the bed, phoneless.

“Jesus.” Howard cursed. When he didn’t say or do anything else, she grew curious but refused to give him the satisfaction of asking what he was doing. 

A second later she heard, “One, two, three!  
My baby don’t mess around  
Because she loves me so  
This I know fo sho!”

Jerking up she turned and found Howard doing a little shuffle with his feet. He grinned at her rakishly, “You say you have no reason to get up, well how about to dance with me?” 

Snatching the phone out of his hand she quickly turned it off. She wasn’t in the mood for happy music and _Hey Ya!_ was a total bop. “No.” 

“Darcy,” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet again, this time slipping his arms around her waist in a loose hug. “I need you to---I just need you. Can you work with me here? I’m trying to cheer you up. And you’re giving me nothing.”

“I don’t deserve to be cheered up.” She answered without thinking as she tried to pry his hands loose.

“C’mon.” Howard held firm. “Dance with me.” 

“No.” 

“Maybe not to that song, I know you’ve got to have something slower.” He said coaxingly, “Put something on. Let me hold you close and spin ya around the room a bit.” 

“No!” She didn’t understand why he was being so insistent. All she wanted to do was be motionless and out of the way! And if she was cramping his style she could go somewhere else. 

“Do you want me to leave?” She asked with exasperation. 

“What?! No!” 

“Do I smell that bad?” 

“…well. I mean, no.” Huffing in annoyance, she glared at him. And he fucking smiled at her. “There’s my girl.” 

There stared at each other for a long silent moment. Him grinning. Her frowning. 

“Okay fine.” She conceded. “I’ll take a shower.” 

“And put on _real_ ‘I can be seen in public’ clothes?” She made a face but nodded in acceptance.

“Good.” He said, breathing out the word like her compliance was a relief. Like, she was doing him a favor. “That’s good.” She realized then, that she’d been stressing him out with her listless behavior and bad attitude. And while it did make her feel guiltier, it also made her feel cared for. 

“You know,” Reaching up she stroked his cheek, “You shouldn’t waste your time worrying about me.” 

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it away and he kissed her palm, “What if I like worrying about you?” He was made those sexy flirty eyes at her. She looked away so when she laughed, it wouldn’t be directly in his face. 

He slipped his arms around her waist again and pulled her in for a big hug. Howard really was too good to her. And she didn’t even really understand why. But, she appreciated every ounce of his attention and concern.

Behind his back she tapped at her phone until a slow familiar song began to play. Howard’s head popped up and he looked at her with a wide surprised grin on his face. “Really?”

She tossed her phone onto the bed and held out her arms waiting for her dance partner, but warned, “I’ve never slow danced with a boy before. So,--”

“You’ve never danced with a _man_?” Howard settled one arm around her waist then put her other hand on his shoulder, before taking her free hand in his. She immediately looked down at their feet. She was in mismatched socks but he was in loafers, she contemplated stepping on them and letting him do all the footwork. 

“Dancing in the future is more, bump and grind your genitals together in the dark.” She explained as she lifted her eyes back up to meet his. “Less middle school dance. Or whatever this is.” 

He smiled at her before darting forwards to peck her on the lips. “Just follow my lead.” 

Of course, Howard was a good dancer. Or at least he was when compared to her, because she was shit. Stiff and constantly looking down at his feet, trying to copy him, or do the opposite of him, or—

“Hey,” Howard called, “Eyes up here.” 

“I feel stupid.” She admitted without shame. Okay that was a lie, there was shame. “We look ridiculous. This is--”

Howard made a show of looking around, “Not a lot of people here to judge us.” He looked at her warmly, “And I promise you, I’m not judging.” 

“I--”

“Relax,” He said softly, pulling her closer. “Just relax and let me push ya around. I really think you need this, kid.” 

It was difficult, relaxing when she felt like she had the crushing weight of the world on her shoulders. And she’d failed so publicly. And her future on the army base was in jeopardy because of said failure….Howard helped though. Being around him reminded her that she wasn’t alone. She had friends. She was good at making friends.

She was good at a lot of things.

Resting her head on his shoulder she let herself really listen to the damn song. It was one of her favorite slow sad-ish songs. All week, she’d been really truly terrified because there was a chance that she could mess up so big, that the Nazi’s could win the war. She could accidently kill the wrong person or even just—but she hadn’t, Howard rubbed her back, up and down, up and down. It was very soothing. 

For the past seven days she’d laid around and done absolutely nothing, she’d barely even spoken to Howard since the lab accident for fear of hurting him, somehow. And now, standing, dancing--just moving…she felt a little better. Living totally in the moment, she just started singing along to the song.

“Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul  
That love never lasts  
And we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone  
Or keep a straight face  
And I’ve always lived like this  
Keeping a comfortable distance”

“You know, you really do have a good voice.” Howard complimented quietly, which kind of threw her off the rhythm of the song and she missed a few lines. 

Sincere compliments always made her feel awkward. So, ignoring his kind words completely she just sang louder and with gusto as the chorus began to play, “But you are the only exception, You are the only exception”

Howard smiled as she got more theatrical with it, doing her best Rachel Berry impression. “You are the ONLY EXCEPTIONNNNNNNNNN—uh-ha-ohhhhhh” 

When he laughed at her, she buried her face in his chest hugging him. It was so weird how much she loved him already, because honestly Howard was more of a best friend than Jane ever could be. 

Just based on their personalities and temperaments, she got along with him so well. Whereas friendship with Jane took effort. And while that felt mean to think, it was true. He just got her, right from the beginning. They shared a similar sense of humor, had matching flirty natures, they were both extremely tactile, and they were performers who normally didn’t let people see behind the façade they projected to the world. 

“Thank you for kicking my ass out of bed.” She said as the song ended.

“Thanks for the dance.” Howard said as he let her go. Bending down he picked up the soap from earlier and shoved it at her chest. “Now go and shower, I was lying before when I said you didn’t smell that bad.”  
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After showering and getting dressed she felt more human and more like her old self. Which was good because apparently Howard invited Peggy over to brainstorm what to do with her now. 

It wasn’t long after her arrival before she had an insane idea that probably would blow up in her face.

“You want to put on a one woman USO show? Using your ‘ipod’? I thought you said it wouldn’t go louder than your ear buds current setting? And won’t they notice that you’re lip syncing?” Howard was somehow about to put her mutterings into coherent thoughts.

“Not exactly, but yeah.” 

Peggy let out a sigh and rubbed at her face tiredly. She didn’t look like she had any faith in the idea, but Darcy was certain it was something she could do without causing harm to anyone.  
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Getting the right people to agree to her mess hall lounge singing act was surprisingly simple. Low cut tops, awesome songs, and Howard Stark by her side and everyone just said ‘yes’. And just like that she was employed again, only this time she only had to work once a week.

Not wanting to get sucked back into a bad mood, Darcy tried to establish a routine for her days and nights when she wasn’t singing. She started off each day waking up around 10 am, then went and begged the kitchen staff to feed her even though breakfast was over. She’d either go bug Peggy, check in on Howard, or take a walk in the woods around the camp. 

She was by no means an outdoorsy person. She actually hated exercise and bugs and dirt and being outside in general because it was damp and often there was no place to sit, however being in the sunshine and fresh air did wonders for her mood. And getting away from the military…everything. Just all of it. Getting away and getting some time alone helped her gain perspective.

Part of that perspective came from talking aloud to Heimdall as she walked. 

She knew at this point he probably wasn’t listening, but giving voice to her worries and feelings, and addressing the Guardian of the Bifrost made it feel less trivial. It was also fun to taunt him and speculate about what Thor and the others were doing on Asgard, given Thor’s status as a dick pre-Jane.

In between talking to Heimdall she would listen to music and choose her songs or try to work out some kind of dance routine for her next gig. It was during one of these daily walk-and-dance that she discovered something kind of horrible, but also maybe awesome. 

“Ahhhhhhhh!” She screamed as tried to do the Michael Jackson moonwalk but ended up rolling her ankle and tumbled head over heels down a hill. 

Her journey came to an abrupt stop when she slammed into a fallen tree trunk and was impaled one of its naked limbs. “Uh-gah.”

She could feel it as blood filled her lung; it was like drowning, but from the inside. The tree limb had skewered her right through her chest, just like Zola had, only this time the injury was lower and straight through a vital organ. 

“Hel--” She tried to call for help, but her voice was weak and gasping. And even if it wasn’t, she tended to wander far from the base so they couldn’t hear singing or spy on her sweet dance moves. 

She gasped for air, it hurt. She tried to breathe in through just her nose that hurt too. She tried to back up, off the tree branch but that hurt so much she screamed out, “ERG!” 

Weirdly she wasn’t panicking, she was thinking. If she pulled off the branch she’d bleed out. If she didn’t…she’d what? Stay impaled until someone came looking for her? Or wolves? She had no choice.

Despite the pain, she pushed off the tree and tried to free herself from her impalement. 

It was slow. A slow, wet, painful, sticky slide off the tree branch. But she did it. 

Falling to the floor she cringed at the thought of the yucky bugs and dirt she was lying in, and the blood, the hole in her chest. What if a bug crawled inside her? “Egh.”

Rolling onto her side, she got her would off the floor. She did not want to have a maggot infestation in her chest cavity. Putting her hand over the bloody wound, she was…not feeling like she was going to die.

Sitting up her head swam, but then it quickly cleared.

Looking down, she moved her bloody torn shirt out of the way so she could see the damage that had been done. 

Her mouth dropped open as she watched her skin and bone and whatever else was inside of her, knit back together before her very eyes. The whole process took less than 10 minutes.

When it was over. When she was healed. She sat there, looking at her boob. Then up at the tree which had tried to kill her. Then she looked up at the sky crying out, “HIEMDALL?! DID YOU SEE THAT?!...WHAT THE FUCK?!”  
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She decided to keep her ‘power’ a secret, even from Howard. She wasn’t sure why. …she was probably just afraid he would reject her or some other reason born of her insecurities and cowardice. And frankly, telling Peggy was out of the question because she wouldn’t put it past the woman to sell her out so the government could hook her up to some vampire machine so her blood could be used to heal soldiers in the field or some other nefarious dissection related plot. 

So, after that first day, she spent her days in the woods injuring herself. Chronicling on her phone’s notepad how long it took to heal from different types of wounds. It was actually the first real science she had ever done with enthusiasm. 

And then one day, she put on her big girl panties and cut off her baby toe.

And it grew back.

“HIEMDALL! DID YOU SEE THAT?!...I’M A STARFISH!”  
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Darcy’s First Day In The Lab Outfit  
Hobo Howard 

What Thor Was Eating In Video Depressed Darcy Was Watching  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That food at the end? Its from the Sugar Factory. That place is insane. And makes me want to dive face first into M&M's.
> 
> Also, how did you like the chapter. I know it was very Howard/Darcy heavy but that's because I love them together. Let me know what you think of me ripping off Claire Bennett's power from the NBC show Heroes. ...also Deadpool. ...and Wolverine....but mostly Claire.
> 
> ALSO, DARCY IS BACK ON MY TV IN THE MCU AND I"M JAZZED!!!! you?


	13. Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Howard POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait in between chapters. Real life is draining, but I'm not going to abandon this fic so worry not.
> 
> Also, this is a very short chapter but I hope to post another one this weekend. So...yeah. Sorry and I hope you still care about this story.

Chapter 13 – Fine

Howard had barely been able to keep his composure as he made his way out of the camp. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion so he maintained a steady but brisk pace and avoided eye contact with those he passed along the way. Once clear of prying eyes he broke out into a dead sprint as he disappeared into the east woods. 

The sun was setting and the light was growing dim but he pushed himself to run faster despite the uneven terrain. _I am banking on your lack of restraint and endless curiosity, I left the bag out in hopes it would tempt you to pilfer through it should the worst happen and I not return by show time._

Howard panted as he ran as fast as possible, Darcy’s note clutched tightly in his hand right hand. He just kept re-reading it over and over in his mind. _I’m probably dead in the woods. But DON’T PANIC!!! I’ve drawn you a map and I’m pretty sure I can be revived if you follow these instructions._

In truth her map was a joke. She’d drawn a square and labeled it ‘base’ and to the right of it a cluster of triangle trees labeled ‘forest’, an arrow ran from square to triangles labeled walk NNE for about 7 minutes find fallen tree then she’d drawn a stick figure version of herself. His mind was filled with theories and questions, but all that was just background noise. For once his feelings were dominating everything inside of him. Logic, reason, sense, it all paled in comparison to the feeling that his heart was lodged in his throat. 

“DARCY!” He shouted, now sure he was far enough away from the camp. “DARCY WHERE ARE YOU?”

He came to a stop. Straining his ears he waited, listening for a response. _I’m probably dead_ her hastily scribbled words were like a punch to the gut. His mind, his greatest asset, had never felt so much like a curse. He was an intelligent man who built weapons for a living; he knew all the gory details when it came to killing and dying. And he couldn’t help but imagine Darcy, dead; a thousand different ways, but dead or dying and alone in every possible scenario. Decapitation. Strangulation. Suffocation. Exsanguination. Drowned. Burned. Disintegrated. Murdered. …Gone.

“DARCY!” In any other situation he’d be embarrassed by the level of desperation and panic that was in his voice, clear as day. But this was about Darcy. 

He had to save Darcy. “DARCY! DARCY!”

In the back of his mind, where he’d been questioning everything she’d written and thinking about this situation logically, it all grew quiet as the forest around him. He could hear the trees rustle in the light breeze, the chirping of bugs and animals, but that was it. That’s all he heard. 

His mind stopped working as despair flooded his system. 

“Darcy!” He called out weakly. For the first time since he was a boy he felt the urge to cry. He knew he’d liked Darcy. As a person. As a woman. But learning she was MIA. Finding her note. Facing the possibility of her death. He was overwhelmed with emotion like he hadn’t been in years. 

He didn’t want it to be over. Their adventure. He didn’t want to never get the chance to-- 

“Howard!” Her voice was faint, clearly some distance away, but he heard it. At least, he thought he had. 

“DARCY!” He called out again, waiting…

“Howard!” She answered. _She answered._ She was alive. With a loud shuddering wheeze he realized he’d been holding his breath. 

“DARCY!” His feet skidded in the dirt as he quickly changed directions and began running towards the sound of her voice. “DARCY!”

“I’m fine!” She yelled back, “Howard! I’m fine!” 

After a few minutes of stumbling through the brush he saw her. She was wearing sunshine yellow and looked pretty and perfectly unharmed. When she saw him she gave a little wave and smiled.

Her smile sent a bolt of relief and…anger through him. 

“Jesus!” He cursed running towards her not stopping until he had his arms around her in a tight embrace. She let out a little ‘oof’ when they made contact but her arms were quick to wrap around him too.

“You’re shaking.” She murmured quietly; strengthen her hold with one arm while the other reached up to pet the back of his neck. The acknowledgement of his weakness felt sour, but still he pressed his face into her shiny black hair and breathed in deeply. 

She was alive. She was whole. She was, fine. Why was she fine? Gritting his teeth he pushed away from Darcy and glared at her. Waving the crumpled note in front of her face he shouted, “WHAT THE HELL!?”

Her head jerked back and her face twisted with regret. Her reaction felt like a slap in the face and he just couldn’t help but grow angry. He pushed her back making her stumble, but she remained standing as he yelled, “WHAT DID YOU—WHY WOULD YOU--I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

She raised her hands placating and spoke in a calming tone of voice, “Howard, I can explain.”

He threw the paper at her face and spoke without thinking, his voice lowering in volume and becoming gruff as he fought to hold back his emotions. “I thought you were dead.” 

She looked uncertain, but she moved forward reaching out. Instinctively he batted her hand away. “Don’t touch me.” 

Her expression hardened with determination and she moved forward towards him, stepping on her damaging letter like it didn’t matter. Like the pain she had just put him through, didn’t matter. She wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged him. And he for the first time didn’t want to hug her back.

He stood stiffly, arms at his side as she tried to force a connection. “I’m sorry.” 

“Were you ever in danger?” He asked, not really caring at all that she was sorry.

“I get that I worried you, and I’m sorry but--”

Her evasive answer didn’t just anger him further, he felt disgust. “Were you ever in danger?” He repeated darkly, “That note you left for me, that was designed to torture me, it said you were dead and you needed my help.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away, breaking the stubborn hold of her arms around him so he could look her in the eyes. “Why would you do that? Write that? You had to know how I would respond.” 

She looked back at him with her big beautiful eyes and he saw remorse, but also something else. Something…guarded. He knew she’d been coming out to the woods for a while now. And he’d so easily accepted her excuse of working on songs and dances for her performances. But this incident, her note, her reaction now in this moment, it all told him he’d been a fool. She was hiding something. From him. “Why would you put me through this,” He snarled before shouting in her face, “IF YOU WERE FINE!?”

She licked her lips nervously, “I was—I was…”

He could see the gears turning in her head. She was trying to think of a lie. “Don’t.” He warned her, “Don’t lie to me Darcy. Not to me.” 

Her eyes widened tellingly, but then she reached out and put her hand over his heart, breathily declaring “I’ve never lied to you Howard.”

Part of him wanted to slap her, but another part wanted to grab her and kiss her. Not breaking eye contact his adrenaline fueled heartbeat began to slow. And his logical mind, which had been unexpectedly overtaken by his emotions, returned to him. He could read in her expression how sorry she was, how surprised she was by his volatile reaction. And in all honesty, he was surprised himself. 

He hadn’t realized how much he cared about her. How much he relished being the one person she confided in, from her true origins, to her petty little boy problems, Darcy had been honest and straight forward with him from the very beginning. To find out that was true…

He took a step towards her and in response she put her other hand on his chest, not to stop him from drawing closer, but to just touch him. At least, he hoped that’s why she did it. He took another step, and then they were hugging again. 

This time he allowed the relief of finding her to flood him fully. “I was really, really worried.” He confessed quietly. He was still angry and felt she was hiding something, but more than that, he was glad she wasn’t dead. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m—I was going to hurt myself, as a test.” He pulled back so he see her face, she was being honest. “But at the last minute, I kind of chickened out.”

“What?” He asked, genuinely confused.

“I’ve been—I didn’t lie, but I’ve been…” She looked lost for the right words. 

He didn’t want her to be afraid to tell him the truth, so he threw her a proverbial lifeline. “Sweetheart, a lie of omission isn’t that terrible in my book.” He gave her chin a gentle stroke, “Especially if you come clean at the opportune moment.”

“Zola..changed me.” His mind flashed back to the brief glimpse he’d gotten of her naked in the bath. He put his hand on her shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the spots where she’d been injured.

Needing more information before he jumped to wild conclusions he asked, “Sweetheart, changed you how?” 

He waited with bated breath for her answer, but just as she opened her mouth to speak a noise broke through the quiet of the night. Her head jerked in the direction it came from. “Did you hear that?”

He had. And he a good idea what the noise was, but he didn’t want to leave this moment without answers. Gently he gripped her chin and forced her to look back at him, “How did Zola change you?”

“With drugs and stuff.” She answered quickly, her eyes shifting away as more noise in the distance distracted her from their conversation. Her brows furrowed as she asserted, “I think it’s coming from the camp.”

He couldn’t let the moment pass. He shook her shoulders and felt vindicated when her eyes slid back to him, now alight with annoyance. “Why would you hurt yourself? What were you testing? Why did you leave me that note? What did you mean by ‘I’m probably dead in the woods’ but ‘I can be revived’?”

More noise in the distance had her pulling away and turning towards where it came from. “Is that gunfire?” She asked, her feet moving before he could grab her and pull her back. 

“Darcy!” He shouted angrily, making her freeze. “I deserve some answers.”

She wore a drawn expression. “You’re a genius, Howard. You have enough information to put the pieces together without me spelling it out for you.”

And he did. Except for…”Why didn’t you tell me?” 

There was a moment of nothing. Of her frozen in thought, and unlike before he could tell she wasn’t thinking of lie, but the best way to reveal the truth. 

She shrugged, and with all of her vulnerability on display, answered him saying, “I was afraid.” 

Looking down briefly she cleared throat before reaching out one hand towards him. “Now can we go see what fresh hell is going on back at camp?”

He wanted to demand more. But she was right. He was a genius. And he understood what she wasn’t saying. And why she would be afraid. As he took her hand and let her lead him back to camp, he tried to not feel hurt.  
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Darcy’s Outfit  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder what's going on back at camp? Hmmmmmm?


	14. Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...mom is still in rehab and I'm kind of unused to dealing with bills and insurance stuff and all that, and well, life has been a bit overwhelming, so please understand that even though I love to update weekly, real life is demanding a lot more of my attention lately.  
> So, I can not promise to update on a consistent schedule, (*secretly aiming for 2x per month) but I can promise not to abandon the story. 
> 
> Writing is an escape and even when real life is hard, I like being god of my little tiny universe, it's just that sometimes I don't have the time or energy.
> 
> So with that super bleak info out of the way, I thought I'd pop in a promotion in the end notes for my Poshmark, cause, I want to keep Disneyplus and Netflix and not have to choose between the two. But then a commenter told me I'm not allowed to do that, and I read the rules and terms of service and it turns out I'm not allowed to promote commercial products/activities. But like, I'm WICKED17WRITER on here and there so if you really want to find me, you can. Now...I'm off to delete all the promotional things I've left in the end notes of all my fics....sigh.
> 
> And if you want to talk to me about the finale of WANDAVISION in the comments I am down to GUSH about it.

Chapter 14 – Thief

She and Howard stuck close to the tree line as they drew close enough to the base to see what was going on. A handful of Hydra soldiers were engaging their troops in a firefight. She’d give it to the Hydra assholes; they’d chosen a good position for themselves. The Hydra goons were wedged in a corner by the armory with several trucks stationed in front of them like a makeshift blockade. It looked like they had the ability to remain stationed where they were and not get hit from the oncoming enemy fire while they exhausted what resources they pillaged from the Allies armory. 

But still, she only counted like five bad guys. 

“What kind of shitty plan is this?” She commented, “Eventually they’ll run out of bullets and be overwhelmed by our superior numbers, I mean this is our home turf.” She looked over at Howard who had a thoughtful expression on his face. “Why..What do you think they’re trying to accomplish with this?”

He gave her a confused look which she returned. And then something on the other side of camp exploded. Jumping slightly her eyes went wide as fire and smoke emanated from a building she couldn’t see. 

Howard wrapped a hand around her bicep and pulled her along muttering, “Did you really think Hydra sent five men to attack our base of operations?”

She had. “Well,” She said defensively, “I did think it was really weird.”

“Sweetheart,” He paused to sigh, his eyes weary all of a sudden, “I assume you didn’t know this attack wasn’t coming?” 

She swallowed thickly. There were two possibilities, one, her lack of historical knowledge was to blame for her ignorance or two, she didn’t know about this little skirmish because in her timeline it hadn’t happened. And it was only happening now because she had changed something.

“If I had known Hydra was going to infiltrate and attack the base I would have told you.” That was not a lie of omission she would have ever been able to make. Howard nodded grimly, 

Before the doubt could even fully form in her mind, Howard put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Assuring, “I believe you.”  
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When Howard tried to get her to leave the tree line to go to the barracks, she dug in her heels before they could leave their leafy green cover. “Don’t you think it’s smarter for us to just, stay and hide in the woods? Neither one of us are exactly renown for our prowess in battle.”

He gave her a look that had her shrinking into herself for her cowardice, but a second later his eyes softened. “That’s probably a good idea. You stay here.” When he let her arm go she lurched toward him instinctively as he proclaimed, “But I have to go.” 

“No!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him close. “No, you don’t have to--”

“Darcy--”

“I mean it!” She squeezed his hand, hoping she was conveying how serious she was by the look on her face. “Stay with me.” 

After what she had just inadvertently put him through with her note, he had to know how equally devastated she would be if anything happened to him. Though she doubted he’d appreciate her pointing out _that_ so soon. So she phrased her argument another way, “Howard, it sucks that Hydra’s here doing, whatever, but if you die or get captured? That’s it—that’s the end of the war. Without you—on the admittedly selfish level, I can’t survive this place without you. But big picture wise, neither can the good guys.” 

She put her hand over his heart, reassured by its measured beating. Looking up at him she found him wearing a loving expression. And for various reasons, it made her feel like shit. “I mean it. You can’t risk your life to play hero--”

“Darcy, I--I understand what you’re saying. But, sweetheart,” He cupped her cheek briefly before letting his hand drop. With the loss of contact he seemed to shake himself out of whatever weird tender moment they were having. With a sigh he told her, “Wouldn’t it be equally ‘war ending’ if Hydra somehow got their hands on a bag full of future tech?”

Instinct had her hand slapping against her chest seeking out the familiar feel of her bags strap, even though she knew she would find it missing. Because she had left it behind for Howard to find. 

In an effort to force herself over the final threshold of testing her powers, she had left the bag and note for Howard to find. It hadn’t felt like such a risk when she’d done it. Leaving the object in his room had felt like committing to the path she had chosen, to shoot herself in the head and see if she could heal from it. To once and for all find out how extensive her healing power was, because based on the data she’d collected thus far such a feat should be possible.

When she first started experimenting in the woods it had taken her an hour to heal from a deep cut across her palm. But as the weeks went by the time it took to heal from similar wounds decreased to minutes. And now she could do it in seconds. However when it came for her to literally pull the trigger, to see if she could heal the one part of her body she’d been hesitant to injury, she had wimped out. Shooting herself in the head was just too scary. By leaving the bag behind she hoped to force herself into being brave. All she’d done was hurt Howard and reveal her secret to him in the worst possible way. 

After wearing the bag slung across her chest nearly all day, every day, it’s absence filled her with dread and panic. Her eyes darted to Howard’s chest and it was only then that she realized, he wasn’t wearing it either. “YOU LEFT IT!?” 

Howard covered her mouth with his hand and made ‘shh’ noises. “Not so loud.” 

She pushed his hand away from her mouth and hissed at him, “You left my bag behind?”

His eyes hardened defensively, “I was kind of preoccupied thinking you were dead and I needed to save you!”

“Well, couldn’t you have saved me while wearing the bag!?” She swatted at his bicep lightly, but they both knew the error was as much hers as his. He took her ire in stride though. 

“I wasn’t thinking straight.” He mumbled.

“No shit!” She grit out, her anger for her own stupidity coloring how she spoke to him. Since arriving in the past she’d only trusted Howard and occasionally Peggy to look after her bag when she was ‘performing’. With the exception of initially hiding it in the woods so Hydra wouldn’t get their hands on it, her bag of future tech—the only lifeline she possessed to a past/future that may never exist again depending on how much she changed the timeline, had never been more than five feet out of her reach. In a brittle voice she asked, “Did you at least hide it?” 

The look on his face told her ‘no’. Turning her eyes back to the sky where smoke wafted into the night sky she tried to project a grim confidence a she muttered, “Well then, I guess it’s time for some thrilling heroics.”  
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They were as sneaky as possible when running across a large open flat landscape. However, they made it to the barracks unharmed and undiscovered and let themselves inside. The dead body of a young looking solider was waiting to greet them.

“Come on sweetheart,” Howard whispered as he pulled her to walk around the body. “We gotta keep going.” 

Quietly they crept towards Howard’s room, a feat only achieved by her when she walked on the balls of her feet as the practical heels she wore clacked against the tile floor otherwise. The place was eerily quiet; they of course could hear the sounds of the firefight outside, but within the residence building? It was like a graveyard, And what was weirder still was each and every door they came across were wide open. Most showed no sign of forced entry but some...

Most rooms were empty but the one’s that weren’t were now occupied by corpses. Familiar corpses. Howard quietly said only their names when they entered the dead filled rooms to check for possible survivors. 

Dr. Rainer, stabbed in the head whilst asleep.

Dr. Murray, sprawled out on the floor of his bathroom, his face covered in shaving cream now tinged red from his cut throat.

Dr. Bailey, strangled to death in the doorway of his room. It wasn’t clear if he was trying to escape or surprised at the door, but it was obvious it had been a violent end. One the seventy year old man didn’t deserve. 

Each corpse they found wound Darcy tighter and tighter. She was so tense that her shoulders were nearly at her ears as she shadowed Howard’s every footstep. She wanted to ask him if he thought that the Hydra assholes who did this were targeting the scientist, trying to take out all the brightest minds the Allies had on their sides, or if he thought they were actually looking for someone in particular and the death they came across were merely opportunity realized. It was clear from the method’s they were using the enemy was going about their gruesome task quietly. Perhaps not wanting to attract attention like the five man firefight outside? She wanted to ask Howard if he thought the firefight, the building fire/explosion, and whatever else was going on outside was all serving the same purpose. To distract from Hydra’s true mission. Here, in this building, which was so quiet and so empty of life.

She wanted to ask him if he thought Hydra was here looking for him or her or something else entirely. But they were trying to be quiet and remain undiscovered as they made their way through the building. So she said nothing of the questions and suspicions she had. She followed his lead holding his hand as tightly as she could.  
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Once they reached the corner, around which they would find Howard’s room, they finally heard their first signs of life. Soft footsteps were heading away from them and towards the exit that was at the end of the hall just past Howard’s room. 

Hiding just out of sight, she and Howard held their breath as the sound of the door quietly opening and the closing reached them. Darcy darted around Howard, intent on running into his room to see if her bag was still where she’d left it, but Howard’s tight fist on the back of her dress held her back. 

When she looked over her shoulder, her mouth open and ready to argue the intense look on Howard’s face and the sever shake of his head deterred her. He put a finger to his lips indicating she should be quiet. He pulled her back, pushed her behind him. He put his hands up in silent gesture of ‘wait’. Her face fell, ashamed at her own stupidity, she quickly nodded in agreement. 

Howard looked her up and down, his eyes falling on the small wicker purse she’d brought with her into the woods. Grabbing it he opened it up and perused its contents. She hadn’t packed much, just a small compact, some lipstick and the gun she had intended on shooting herself with.

With one raised brow Howard silently judged her so hard and she felt her face warm in embarrassment, trying to hide her reaction she averted her gaze to the floor. When he thrust the bag at her chest she accepted it back on instinct. When she finally got over herself and looked up she realized he’d removed the tiny compact from inside and was using it to look around the corner. Which was so James Bond and smart.

With a nod he shut the compact and pocketed it. Quietly, he told her, “Coasts clear.”

With hurried footsteps they went to see what had become of Howard’s room. The door was open just like all the other’s they’d found. As she stepped inside she put a hand to her chest, it felt like her heart was it was in a vice. 

The first thing her eyes sought out was the desk. It was the place where she had left her bag to be easily discovered by Howard. The vice tightened. 

Her bag was gone.

“Fuck.” She breathed out the curse. As her gaze swept across the rest of the room, taking it all in, all she could think was ‘my fault’.

His clothes and hers were strewn about the place. The small wardrobe that had held them was all messed up. The shelves inside were broken and there were knife marks in the back, as if someone had been looking for a secret compartment or something. 

Her eyes shifted back to the desk. She was used to seeing a collage of pinned papers in the space above the desk. They were usually napkins or half torn pages, he tended to grab for whatever was handy when struck by inspiration, all of the scribbling half formed ideas and notes were then pinned to the wall so he could think about them some more. All of those papers were gone now. 

“It’s gone.” Howard declared grimly. 

“Your stuff too.” She said pointing at the empty wall.

“Okay,” He said running his hands through his hair nervously, “So, we have two choices go after the--”

“No.” She interrupted, moving to the other side of the bed as she kicked off her heels, “We don’t.”

The first spot of good luck revealed that despite the room’s chaos, her pink combats boots were exactly where she’d left them. Scooping up the shoes she felt an immense urgency to move quicker. 

Knowing the Hydra thief was getting farther and farther away even as they spoke, she hurried to Howard’s side and thrust her purse at his chest. With a confused expression he took it and she started pushing him towards the door with her shoulder whilst simultaneously widening her shoes laces so she could step into them easily. 

Howard didn’t resisting physically but there was a questioning tone when he said her name. “Darcy.” 

Once in the hallway she set the shoes on the ground, stepped in, then quickly pulled the laces taught before tying a knot, she repeated the process before standing and putting a hand on Howard’s lower back, urging him towards the exit. “C’mon.” 

“Darcy.” He said her name again harsher this time, but still he did not resist her guiding hand.

“We need to get my bag back.” She hesitated a second before opening the door, the sound of the firefight and yelling and chaos hit her like a hand to the face. But the cool night air was refreshing, and she felt more awake as she stepped out into the open. “And we need to get you to safety.” 

“And you too.” Howard insisted as he shifted at her side. “But we don’t know where that murdering scum went. He could be clearing the perimeter of the base right now for all we know.” 

“Maybe.” She said, even though she didn’t think that was the case. She nodded to the left, where just around the side of the building could hear the loud exchange from the firefight, which now she felt confident was just a distraction from Hydra’s real mission. “But assuming he hasn’t run for the hills just yet, I doubt he went that way.” 

“Alright.” Howard aloofly commented.

“And seeing as how he put in such an effort to remain quiet,” She indicated to the building straight ahead of them, “I doubt he’d go where there’s sure to be a lot of people dealing with the explosion and subsequent fire.” 

Right in front of them was a boring and innocuous building which housed a room of office supplies, a couple female officer rooms, and little else. But beyond that building, was the officer’s barracks. And beyond that was the Allies hub of Communication building. And that was where the explosion had come from and the fire still raged in the distance. 

Yelling could be heard as people tried to put out the fire or fight the people who had set it, but with one or two buildings in between them and the fire they could discern little else about what was happening. 

As one, she and Howard looked to their right. There was about 100 yards of nothing but grass until you hit the big and wide building which housed not only the Mess hall, but after a few winding corridors, Howard’s lab. Which had a blast doors able to withstand a nuclear bomb, probably. There Darcy knew Howard would be safe. And that was her number 1.a goal. Number 1.b of course being get her bag back. 

However, unlike what was normal for this time of night the building’s interior wasn’t bustling with chatter, there weren’t any lights on in the main hall, and people weren’t constantly streaming in an out. In fact, the warm hub which was usually the one place on base the soldiers were allowed to relax and unwind with friends, now stood ominous and cold before them. 

“Which leaves us one option.” Howard murmured. 

She nodded in agreement, “I mean he could have headed for the woods, to escape and deliver the goods to his evil overlords, but if he took the bag _and_ your notes _and_ he’s trying to be sneaky, it stands to reason he would check the only other place we might be before he makes his getaway.” 

“That’s if he’s working alone and not with a partner who was checking the labs while he checked the barracks.” Howard pointed out. 

“Yeah.” She agreed as she squinted into the dark looking for movement. It seemed clear? Silently making up her mind she took a step towards the Mess hall and tugged Howard along with her.

Walking into the open felt vulnerable, but she held Howard’s hand and moved forward. As they walked she spared him a glance and snorted in amusement. He was still holding her little wicker purse. At the noise he looked at her questioningly. She nodded her head to the girlish item. “I meant for you to take the gun out and leave the purse behind.”

Pouting slightly, clearly exasperated, he shook free of her hand and groused as he retrieved the weapon, “And I’m what? A mind reader?”

When he offered her the gun she waved him off. “You keep it. I have the aim of a Stormtrooper.” 

Opening the clip he checked the ammo remarking, “I thought you were gonna ask Peggy about lessons?” 

“I did.” She insisted quietly, “I had one lesson, was shit, decided I was never meant to be Lara Croft and put my efforts elsewhere.” 

“You mean into experimenting with your altered physiology.” Howard said, sounding judgmental. “Are you going to elaborate on that?” 

He sounded hurt. 

Guilt, so intense that it felt crippling, surged through her veins. Infecting every part of her. 

“Yes Howard,” She stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm just in front of the doors to the Mess hall, “I want—I am stupid and my plan was..so terrible and poorly thought out and it’s put us in this desperate situation and it’s all my fault and I hurt your feelings and I’m sorry and I know I worried you, but yes. I left that note for you because I wanted to share all that I’ve been going through and--”

A hint of warmth returned to his voice as he interrupted saying, “You were scared, I get it.”

“I’m not a very brave person.” She admitted weakly, “I’m bold, brash, but not brave.”

“Agree to disagree.” He said softly.

“No it’s true.” She argued, “My instinct is to hide, not fight. To run, not stand my ground. And now, we’re in this situation where we will no doubt have to confront a bad guy and I just know that if I’m the one with the gun, I’d freeze and get us killed or captured.”

He put his arm around her waist and pulled her into the shadowed doorway, he pushed them flat against the wall before moving nearly nose to nose with her. “Honey,” He said with affection, one finger trailing down her arm, “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. When you at Zola’s mercy, locked up with the 107th, they told me what you did. How you put yourself at risk and killed the Hydra goon who nearly beat Barnes to death.” 

She shook her head silently disagreeing. She’d killed Lohmer because he had a gun trained on Falsworth. Because everything was devolving into chaos. Because he had nearly beat Bucky to death. Because he wanted to rape her and would have if not for Zola’s lies. She’d killed Lohmer not because she was some heroic badass, but because her friend’s lives were on the line. And she’d nearly peed herself while doing it. 

Looking into Howard’s eyes now, so filled with trust and faith, she felt sick. Sometimes she though Howard Stark knew her better than anyone. Mother, lover, friend, he just got her on so many levels. But times like this, it was clear he had this idea in his head of who she was and what she was capable of. And that image did not line up with reality. 

She turned away from his loving gaze to stare at the smoke rising into sky. She was 99.9% certain this whole situation was her fault. A direct result of her interference in the past. And the way Howard looked at her, adoringly, was like salt in the wound.

Every dead body they came across was blood on her hands. How Howard didn’t understand that truth was a mystery. She wanted to run away, get out of the line of fire. And if she was alone, that’s exactly what she would have done. She would run and hide and pray the bad guys didn’t find her. But she wasn’t alone. 

“Darcy,” He said, moving closer until she could feel the breath of his words on her cheek, “I know you, you’re a fighter.”

Pushing off of the wall she muttered, “I’m really not.”  
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Darcy Outfit after Shoe Change  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I was going to promote Poshmark here but now I am not.  
> So instead I will ask you a question, have you left a comment and/or Kudos?
> 
> have you left a comment and/or Kudos?
> 
> have you left a comment and/or Kudos?
> 
> have you left a comment and/or Kudos?
> 
> have you left a comment and/or Kudos?
> 
> have you left a comment and/or Kudos?


End file.
